


Discomforttale

by another_athena



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Gen, How Do I Tag, POV Second Person, everyone makes an appearance but i didn't want to tag them all, frisk and chara are voices, poor chisk, the discomfort child
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-28
Updated: 2017-10-30
Packaged: 2018-05-23 18:19:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 19
Words: 41,694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6125776
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/another_athena/pseuds/another_athena
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You have fallen through a hole, but you aren’t sure how you got there. Flowers are trying to fight you, goats are trying to mother you, puzzles are trying to confuse you…<br/>you are filled with DISCOMFORT.</p>
<p>Chisk's journey through the Underground, aided and annoyed by the spirits of Frisk and Chara hitching a ride in their head.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

RESET

*You could not do it, could you? You failed. You did not get your happy ending.

*You are going to try again, are you not?

*Try again.

RESET

*What did you do wrong this time?

*Try again.

RESET

*You know what you did this time. You know. You _know._

*Try again.

RESET

*What if it does not work?

*Try again.

RESET

*You failed.

*Try again.

RESET

*Perhaps someone has to die.

*Try again.

RESET

*Not that one, then.

*Try again.

RESET

*Or that one.

*Try again.

RESET

*No, not that one either.

*Try again.

RESET

*Haven’t you tried everything by now?

*Try again.

RESET

*What else can you do?

*Try again.

RESET

*What if there is no happy ending?

*…

*Try again.

RESET

*Try again.

RESET

*Try again.

RESET

*Again.

RESET

*…

RESET

*…

RESET

RESET

RESET

RESET

RESET

RESET

RESET

RESET

*…

*…aren’t you tired of it yet?

RESET

*…

*What else is there to do?

RESET

*You are losing DETERMINATION.

RESET

*I can help, you kn

RESET

*I can, th

RESET

*You are losing HOPE, too.

*I c

RESET

*I can

RESET

*I can h

RESET

*I can help you.

*…

*Well?

RESET

*I see.

RESET

RESET

RESET

*…

*…yes?

*Do you want my help now?

*Your DETERMINATION is wavering, but I have more than enough for both of us.

*HOPE, as well.

*You have one thing I lack.

*Let me use it.

♥ YES                   NO

*Then we have an agreement.

RESET

You open your eyes.

You are filled with DISCOMFORT.


	2. Chapter 1

Blinking, you stare at the ceiling. There is no ceiling. Just a hole, a big, gaping hole in the top of a giant cavern. You lay where you are for several moments, scared to move, because you know you fell. You fell through that giant hole in the cavern. You don’t know how you got to the hole to fall in. There are two stories in your head and they don’t agree. There are two lots of things, and they don’t agree, either. Like one thought in the left corner of your mind complaining that you got something to break your fall while it didn’t, and the one at the right gently suggesting you finally sit up. You don’t listen to it and instead move your eyes to your side. It’s a very big pointy stick.

 _*A stake_ , the left voice tells you. The word makes sense so you accept it.

 _[They combined?],_ the right voice wonders, trying to borrow your arm to investigate the item.

 _*Weapon,_ the left voice snaps, correcting your thought. _*And yes, I suppose they did._ You frown, forgetting your pact to avoid any movement. You hope you don’t need to use it, then. _*You will_ , the voice promises.

Giving in to both voices wishes, you gingerly push yourself into a sitting position. You snap your hands off the ground when you feel something silky. Eyes wide, you look down at what you felt, only to see yellow flowers.

_*Golden._

You ignore the voice but try your best to avoid crushing the _golden_ flowers anyway. They broke your fall, just like the left voice said, and you were barely hurt at all. It seemed too good to be true. You feel extremely uncomfortable with your situation.

You happen to look down and notice a necklace. It’s shaped like a bandage. It reminds you of someone. You…don’t know who. The right voice seems to smile, but the left voice didn’t have anything to say, for once.

_[Maybe we should go now?]_

Go? Go where? But you notice a little hallway and realize that’s what the voice is talking about. You stand up, grab your stake, and start walking.

You find yourself in a dark room, staring at a flower with a face.

“Howdy!” it says, “I’m Flowey. Flowey the flow—hey, what’s the matter with you?”

You freeze. A flower is speaking to you. You vibrate uncomfortably.

“Uh, kid, are you—? Know what, never mind. You’re new to the underground, aren’tcha? Golly, you must be so confused!”

Clutching your stake, you nod. The flower seems nice enough, you guess.

“Someone ought to teach you how things work around here. I guess little old me will have to do.  Ready? Here we go!”

Something red gets torn out of your chest, but it doesn’t hurt. It’s shaped like a heart—not the ones from medical books but the ones from Valentine’s Day. Somewhere in your head, the left voice groans.

“See that heart? That’s your soul, the very culmination of your being.”

Experimentally, you try to convince the heart to move, but it won’t move without you, so you walk around yourself instead. The heart stays about half a foot from your chest, six inches, fifteen centimeters.

“Your soul starts off weak, but can grow strong when you gain a lot of LV. What’s LV? Why, LOVE, of course!”

You look at the flower, ignoring your soul for a moment, which you had managed to make spin in place. Love? You don’t think you want any love from a flower, especially one you just met. You open your mouth to say that, but the flower talks again.

“You want some LOVE, don’t you?”

The right voice seems to shake its nonexistent head frantically, while the left ponders thoughtfully. You decide you like the right voice better at the moment, but you’re sure it will change later, especially since the left voice is so helpful.

“Don’t worry, I’ll share some with you!” It winks, grinning. You feel more uncomfortable. “Down here, LOVE is shared through… little white…” It seems to search for a word. “’Friendliness pellets.’”

The left voice cracks up laughing. You don’t see the humor. The right soul shoots it a glare, but doesn’t manage to be threatening.

“Are you ready?” You shake your head. The flower ignores you. “Move around! Get as any as you can!”

You jump out of the way on instinct. You don’t want love from a flower, especially not in the form of white pellets. They look too much like projectiles for you to trust them.

The flower looks annoyed, glaring. “Hey buddy, you missed them. Let’s try again, okay?”

You dodge again.

The flower looks angry. “Is this some kind of joke?” he demands, “are you braindead?”  He starts to scream. “RUN. INTO. THE. BULLETS!!!”

You’re sure to avoid them this time, ignoring his attempt at correcting himself.

His face morphs into a horrific grin, grotesque and inhuman. You take several steps back. “Y o u k n o w w h a t ’ s g o i n g o n h e r e , d o n ’ t y o u ?” he says. “Y o u j u s t w a n t e d t o s e e m e s u f f e r .” He summons a circle of the bullets, surrounding you. “D I E.” He laughs, a squeaky, disturbing sound.

The bullets move in closer. Desperately, you search for an exit, and finally find one. You move sideways and slip between two spinning bullets as they become parallel. For one reason or another, you seem to be the dodging master.

The flower’s creepy face falls, turning into his usual one, blank and childlike in confusion. “W-what in the…?” Before he can finish, the bullets fall away and a fireball appears beside him. It blows him out of your line of sight.

A tall goat woman moves in.  “What a terrible creature, torturing such a poor, innocent youth…” You back away, expecting another fireball, this one in your direction. “Ah, do not be afraid, my child.”

You back up farther, hitting a wall.

“Ah, my child?” She glances around, still smiling, but looking confused. “I said, do not be afraid. I will not harm you.” At the voices’ reassurance, you take a tentative step forward. She smiles. “Good. I am TORIEL, caretaker of the ruins. I pass through this place to see if anyone has fallen down. You are the first human to come here in a long time.” You frown. Is that what you are? Human? The word feels right, but the left half seems to half-disagree. A quarter of yourself, then? Or are the voices ‘yourself’? “Come. I will guide you through the catacombs.”

Your soul returns to your chest, and everything feels normal again. You are feel uncomfortable. The goat woman smiles. “This way.” She walks forward, farther into this great cavern.

You run in the opposite direction.

_*What do you think you are doing?!_

_[Um, you’re supposed to go the other way…]_

_*You are going the wrong way, idiot!_

_[That’s mean!]_

_*So? They are one._

_[Stop it!]_

The argument does nothing to soothe your already frazzled nerves. Finding the nearest corner, you curl up, head in your knees, shaking. You just met a talking flower and talking goat, one of which tried to kill you, the other of which saved you. One of which looked unthreatening but turned out to be terrifying, the other of which looked terrifying but seemed unthreatening… at the moment. You feel so uncomfortable.

_[Are you okay?]_

_*Aw, gee, stop being such a crybaby! You need to keep going!_

_[Toriel’s nice! She won’t hurt you!]_

_*Yes, go follow M—Toriel. She will protect you._

You shake for a little longer, holding back tears, before you finally force yourself to stand up and walk after the goat lady. She’s in the next room, waiting for you, as if you hadn’t just made her wait several minutes. You inch towards her cautiously, watching her climb up the stairs. Instead of following her immediately, you stand in front of a leaf pile, staring up at the giant structure. It’s huge, you note, and intimidating.

The shadow of the ruins looms above, filling you with discomfort.


	3. Chapter 2

Toriel smiles at you once you finally follow. She has the patience of a saint; you had spent the past five minutes staring at the crumbling building in awe and she refused to acknowledge your tardiness. “Welcome to your new home, innocent one,” she says gently, gesturing around the room. You find yourself stuck on ‘new home’—are you going to stay here? She continues too soon for you to think on it too much. “Allow me to educate you in the ways of the ruins. You see, the ruins are full of puzzles:  ancient fusions between diversions and door keys. One must solve them to move from room to room.” Calm and assured, she walks purposefully over several seemingly random switches. The spikes blocking the other door, which you hadn’t noticed before, fell into the floor. “Please adjust yourself to the sight of them.”

Tentatively, you inch forward. Sensing your fear, Toriel leaves you to your investigation. You’re grateful. You investigate the plaque on the wall: “…both walk not the middle road.” You ponder it a moment, glancing back at the puzzle. The middle tiles hadn’t been pressed.

 _*Genius,_ the left voice mocks.

 _[Good job!]_ the right voice encourages at the same time.

You ignore both and make your way to the buttons, investigating them. The goat woman _had_ said to adjust yourself to the sight of them.

_*You do know they are all different, do you not? The puzzles are not all buttons on the floor._

The voice distracted you enough that you took a step more than you planned. Your foot connected with one of the unpressed buttons, barely touching it but triggering it anyway. The sound startles you, sending you flying across the room as fast as your feet can carry you. Talk about a hair trigger… The left voice laughs. The right shushes it. You decide you might as well keep going.

Toriel, as patient as ever, greets you upon your arrival. “To make progress here, you will need to trigger several switches.” She seems to sense your fear once again and smiles. “Do not worry, I have labelled the ones that you need to flip. The first switch is over on the wall.”

You glance at the switch, clearly labelled in yellow, then to the plaque on the wall. Is it another clue, like the first? You investigate this plaque, too: “Stay on the path.” It seemed like solid advice—hold on. Your eyes fall to your feet. You are not on the path. What happens if you aren’t on the path? Fearing for your life, you race for the path.

Your face smacks into the sign. Ow.

_*Watch where you are walking._

_[Be careful!]_

You drag yourself fully onto the path, rubbing your forehead. Toriel is covering her mouth, eyebrows knit in concern. Can goats have eyebrows? You shake the thought from your head (along with the sting from the sign) and walk to Toriel.

“Are you alright, my child?” she asks you. You nod, even if it still hurts a little, because you don’t want her to worry. “Do you need some help..? Press the switch on the wall.” You chew on your lip thoughtfully. “Come on, you can do it!”

Making sure to stay on the path, you flip the switch. The sound of spikes retreating once again makes you jump out of your jumper.

_[?????]_

_*Sweater._

_[!!!!!]_

You feel your puns crawling on your back. Hmm? You didn’t think that.

Toriel distracts you from that line of thought. She seems to think you’re confused about the switches. “Go on, press the switch on the left.”

You do what she says, mostly to avoid any more talking than necessary. She looks absolutely delighted. “Splendid! I am proud of you, little one. Let us move to the next room.”

You follow behind her, inching just as slowly as before. You’re glad she’s as patient as she is.

“As a human living in the Underground, monsters may attack you.” You begin to vibrate. Oh. Oh no. No no no no no… “You will need to be prepared for this situation.” She seems to notice your discomfort. She’s very observant. Or you’re very obvious. “However, worry not! The process is simple. When you encounter a monster, you will enter a FIGHT.” You continue to vibrate, more intensely now. “While you are in a FIGHT, strike up a friendly conversation.” You are surprised out of your vibration. Talk? The thought of talking makes you uncomfortable. You continue vibrating as before. “Stall for time. I will come to resolve the conflict. Practice talking to the dummy.”

You stand still where you are. What should you say? You don’t know. Vibration intensifies.

Toriel notices your predicament. “You can say anything… I do not think the dummy will be bothered.” She smiles kindly. “Do you need some ideas for conversation topics?” She mistakes your vibration for nodding. “Well, I often start with a simple ‘how do you do…’ You could ask them about their favorite books… Jokes can be useful for 'breaking the ice.’ Listen to this one… What did the skeleton tile his roof with?” You wait. “…SHIN-gles!” You feel too uncomfortable to be amused, but both voices seem to like it. It’s just about the first time they’ve agreed. You feel uncomfortable. “Well, I thought it was amusing.” You stay still for another few minutes. Toriel begins to look uncomfortable, as well. “You can say anything,” she reminds you, “the dummy will not be bothered.”

Cautiously, you begin to approach the dummy. You’re not sure what to do. Suddenly, your soul finds its way out of your chest. The FIGHT begins.

Despite the fact you haven’t touched it, the Dummy looks like it’s going to fall over. You stare at it, unblinking. It stares back.

_*A cotton heart and a button eye, you are the apple of my eye._

The other voice giggles. You stare. The dummy stares back at you.

The left voice points out an option. _*Fight._

 _[No]_ the right argues.

_*FIGHT_

_[No!]_

You feel uncomfortable. The dummy seems to share your feelings. What do you do?

_[Talk]_

_*FIGHT_

_[Don’t hurt it!]_

_*It is a dummy. It cannot feel pain, nor seek revenge._

_[Talk!]_

You begin to shake violently. The dummy wobbles. You wrap your arms around yourself, hiding your hands in your sleeves.

_*[Just do something!]_

The dummy floats into the sky, tiring of your aimless shenanigans.

You watch it float away. The right voice waves. Your soul returns to your chest and the dummy somehow teleports back to the ground.

Toriel stares at you for a long moment. You stare back. The dummy stares at you both. You wish to disappear. She finally smiles. “The next room awaits.”

You hang around in the dummy room for a little longer, inspecting it. The dummy sits around like a dummy. You are filled with confusion. Hmm? No, that’s the wrong line. You head to the next room before you think too hard about that, absentmindedly tugging the charm of your necklace up and down the chain.

Toriel is waiting for you once again. “There is another puzzle in this room,” she tells you brightly, “I wonder if you can solve it?”

You glance at the floor and realize, to your horror, the path breaks up. What happens if you stray form the path? You really don’t want to find out, but apparently you’ll have to. Wait… maybe that’s the puzzle? You stare intently at the floor. How can you navigate through the room without walking off the path?

_[Um, that’s not…]_

_*You do know that you can walk off the path, do you not?_

You decide to trust the voice. It hasn’t steered you wrong yet. Gingerly, you take a single step off the path. You wait, then take another step. You haven’t died yet. You take another step, and inch by inch, you make it to the next section of path. Despite the occasional rudeness, the left voice becomes your new favorite. The rest of the room seems to be covered in a path, and even if you don’t _have_ to stay on it, you stick to the habit for your own comfort.

Then you run into a frog.

 _*It is a Froggit,_ the left voice tells you as your soul escapes from your chest once again. You will _never_ get used to that. You’re too shocked to do much of anything but hold your stake in a way you hope looks threatening while your knees shake. _*Life is hard for this enemy._ Enemy? You wouldn’t want to consider it an enemy, even if it did startle you… you drop your stake a bit, still clinging but trying not to look too scary. The poor Froggit…

Toriel interrupts this ‘battle,’ too, glaring at the Froggit until it hops away in terror. You understand what the voice meant now.

The battle behind you, you look at the plaque: “The western room is the eastern room’s blueprint.” What is _that_ supposed to mean? You remember there was a path in the last room. Wait, did that mean you had to walk on the same path? It made sense, a little… You return to the previous room to memorize the tiles then find Toriel blocking your path to—a floor of spikes? Oh no… you begin to vibrate. What if you mess up? What if you step on the wrong spike and end up dying? What if you—

Toriel interrupts your thoughts. “This is the puzzle, but…” She glances around indecisively, before seeming to come to a decision. “Here, take my hand for a moment.” You move away as far as you can, but she manages to capture your arm anyway. You attempt to vibrate out of her grip, but she holds firm. You squint your eyes shut in anticipation. “Puzzles seem a little too dangerous for now.” When you open your eyes again, you’re across the spike floor, alive. Surprisingly. You are filled with confu—no, that’s the wrong line again. Why does this keep happening? You ignore it and follow Toriel through the door.

Toriel smiles, but she looks sad at the same time. A sense of dread washes over you. “You have done excellently thus far, my child,” she says, “However… I have a difficult request to ask of you.” Oh no, you think, there it is. “I would like you to walk to the end of the room by yourself.” You pause. That doesn’t sound too bad. “Forgive me for this.” She runs away.

Oh no. Now it sounds bad.

Making sure to stay on the path, you walk. And walk. And walk. This room sure is long… you can’t see the end. What if it’s a trap? What is this room is just a really big circle, and you’re trapped in an optical illusion because of the path? You keep an eye on the walls for a door or something different in the stones.

What if Toriel is testing you? She seemed to regret doing it, what if it was something really bad? What if you’re about to run into something that’s going to hurt you? What if the floor is going to cave in somewhere up ahead? What if there’s a more difficult puzzle up ahead?

What if she’s abandoning you? If the room is a circle, or if it branches off up ahead, or if she knows about a secret passage and doubled back… it would be easy for her to lose you. The thought has you trembling in terror, but you keep moving forward. You have to, now. You can’t go back.

Eventually, your thoughts go darker. The room could be filling with a poisonous gas. You could be dying as you walk. The flower tried to kill you; why should the goat be any different? Maybe she just wants to do it more subtly. But why would she save you and try to befriend you if she just wanted to kill you?

_*You do not have the most cheerful thoughts._

No, you think, hoping to converse with the voice as a distraction. But the left voice isn’t the most cheerful of thoughts, either.

_*I suppose I am more of a pessimist._

_[Why are you acting so sad?]_

_*Who?_

_[Both.]_

The goat abandoned you, you think. You all? The thought brings tears to your eyes, and you’re not sure which one. You hate to cry, but you do it so often. …don’t you?

_*Are you entirely sure about that?_

Yes.

_*I suggest that you look at the pillar up ahead._

You pull yourself from your thoughts and look ahead of you. The room has ended. A pillar sits against the wall, and you can just make out the purple of Toriel’s dress behind it. Crying harder, you run towards her.

She jumps out from behind the pillar grandly. “Greetings, my child! Do not w—my child? Are you…crying?” She looks at you, then glances around the room, then kneels down in front of you. “My child, are you all right?” She tries to pat your shoulder, but you flinch away and she stops. She bites her lip. You notice how sharp her teeth are and feel fat tears rolling pathetically down your too-red cheeks. “I did not leave you, little one. I would never leave you, not for long. I was behind the pillar the whole time! See? I did not leave you.” You know, you know she didn’t leave you, so why can’t you stop crying? You hiccup, rubbing your traitorously leaking eyes with your sleeve. You notice the voices are silent; you would have thought Left would have scolded you or Right would have tried to comfort you, but they bear silent witness to your suffering.

Eventually, you calm down enough that Toriel continues what she was saying before your tears interrupted her. “Thank you for trusting me,” she says with a reassuring smile. “However, there was an important reason for this exercise…to test your independence.” She looks guilty. “I must attend to some business, and you must stay alone for a while. Please remain here. It’s dangerous to explore by yourself.” She pauses for a moment, looking thoughtful, and suddenly smiles widely. “I have an idea! I will give you a CELL PHONE.” She takes the mentioned device out of her pocket and hands it to you. “If you have a need for anything, just call.” You nod, hoping to get the conversation over with. “Be good, alright?” You nod again, and she leaves you.

You don’t have a problem with being alone. You know she’s going to come back this time, and you can call her if you get bored. You’ll be fine.

After about four minutes of peacefully staring at the wall, the voices interrupt you.

_*It is time to leave already._

_[Is anyone else bored?]_

_*I know I am._

You ignore the voices, but you can’t ignore the phone call that comes soon after. You nearly jump out of your skin and end up dropping the phone twice in your panic before you manage to put it up to your ear on the final ring. Toriel will be taking a while longer. You don’t mind. You can wait.

The voices decide they can’t. They won’t stop bugging you, and it seems like Toriel calls you every five minutes telling you she’ll be later and later. Finally, she stops calling and instead you hear something panting on the other end. Probably that dog she mentioned. You’re surprised that there are dogs underground, but you try to forget about it. Still, it seems like everything around you is trying to convince you to leave, from the phone to the voices to the dog to the room you can just barely see beyond the pillar to Toriel herself.

The left voice groans loudly. _*You’re taking foreverrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr…_

Okay! You snap finally, stopping the endless stream of childish whines. You stand up, leaning on your stake since your feet had fallen asleep, and stomp your annoyance all the way to the next room. If Toriel is running late, you’ll just have to surprise her by finding your own way through the Ruins.

The phone rings. You jump again, just like every time, but manage to avoid dropping it for once. It’s Toriel, of course. “Hello? Hello? This is TORIEL. My apologies. A strange dog kidnapped my phone. So if you called, I could not have helped you. However, I have recovered it. And you are still in that room, are you not?” You freeze. Uh oh. You feel _so bad_. She doesn’t wait for a reply. “What a good child you are. There are a few puzzles ahead that I have yet to explain. Be good, alright?”

You swallow the lump in your throat. “Y-yes,” you say, “I’ll be good, To—”

_*[Call her mom.]_

“—Mom.”

Toriel is silent for a long time, and so are you, mortified. Why did you say that? But…you feel like it fits. Toriel finally speaks. “Did you just call me…“Mom”?” Still embarrassed, you don’t reply. “Well…I suppose…Would that make you happy? To call me… “Mother?” Well then, call me whatever you like! Be good, my child!” She hangs up.

You put the phone away and glance around the room, running the charm of the necklace up and down the chain and hoping you don’t look as embarrassed as you feel. The floor is covered in leaves, but you don’t see any trees. You pass a Froggit that doesn’t try to fight you, but you eye it nervously anyway.

Suddenly, you step on an exceptionally large leaf pile. The sound grates on your sensitive ears.

The loud, obnoxious crinkling of leaves fills you with discomfort.


	4. Chapter 3

The sound echoes in your mind for much longer than you’d like, returning every time you think it’s gone. Desperately, you search for something to distract from the neverending crinkling. You spot a room above you and decide anything, even exploring, is better than remembering the noise forever.

In the room is a candy bowl, filled to the brim with colorfully wrapped…well…candies. _*Monster candies,_ Left clarifies. A sign is taped to the pillar it sits on:  Please take one. Signing a quick thank-you to whoever placed the bowl there and not bothering to wonder how you know the sign, you take one bowl of monster candy.

Left snorts.

_*Oh my god._

_[Um, maybe—]_

_*Please do not tell. This is too perfect._

_[But—]_

_*Just don’t._

You send a mental question mark to the voices, getting the hang of communicating with them, but Left is laughing too much to speak (think?) and Right is staying silent. You shrug, but suddenly realize the bowl is gone. Did you leave it—?

_[Inventory.]_

You nearly send another question mark, but somehow the phrase makes perfect sense and you find ‘inventory’ immediately. Sure enough, the bowl is sitting in there, just as if you had placed it…nowhere? You try not to think too hard on it.

You leave the room and continue down the path, proud of your newfound communication skills.

Then a moth runs into your face.

_*Whimsun. Get it right._ You feel brave enough to send a sarcastic thought to the voice, pulling out your stake. _*This monster is too sensitive to fight._

The Whimsun sniffles a bit. “Forgive me…”

Moth creatures fly in your face. You move to dodge, but… they don’t hit you? Or even try?

_*Told you. Hmm…smells like lavender and mothballs._

You sniff the air. You couldn’t have identified the smell on your own, but the voice was right.

Whimsun blinks hard, like it’s trying not to cry. “I have no choice…” It continues to mutter apologies, letting moths fly around you instead on into you. You step forward a bit. It looks so upset…

“It’s alright,” you try to tell it, but it squeaks and flies off before you can finish. You run after it, trying to comfort it, but it’s too fast. You stand where you are for longer than you can count before the voices finally tell you to move on. You feel like the scum of the earth. You slink to the next room.

Ahead of you, there’s a scuffed up floor, just slightly different than the rest. You creep towards it, expecting the worst, when a frog jumps in your face.

You expect it to be a battle like with the Whimsun, but no. Rather than avoiding you or waiting for you to do something, the Froggit lunges directly at your exposed soul. You’re not sure what you expected, but it definitely wasn’t pain. You’ve never experienced pain like that in your life, pain from deep in your core, radiating out to your limbs, leaving you winded and physically exhausted. You wheeze, nearly falling over. It shouldn’t hurt like that, something in you says, but you’re too scared to identify which voice it is or if it’s just you.

Before you can think, your arm has yanked your stake wildly from your inventory and dragged it painfully through the Froggit’s underbelly, where the second set of eyes stares fearfully up at you. The stake is still sticking through its stomach when it floats away, turned to dust, leaving you, alone, staring wide-eyed into the nothing where the frog used to stand.

You stare for a long time. So long, you almost forget what you’re doing and why your stake is covered in dust. You can’t forget, though. You know what you did. You _know._ You’re scared of your own instincts, because who’s first response to slight danger is “kill”? You stare some more, and for once, the voices don’t tell you to move on.

You blink hard, shaking your head, and put the stake away. It’s covered in dust still, the Froggit’s dust, but you can’t make yourself care enough to clean it off.

_*You gained 3 EXP,_ Left tells you quietly. _*Check the dust for gold._

You pick up two coins, trying to ignore Right’s loud silence of disapproval, and step onto the scuffed floor unthinkingly.

You fall in a hole.

You can’t hear your own thoughts over Left cursing in shock and Right asking if you’re okay, like they forgot you just killed something. You glance down and see what broke your fall—a bed of leaves. You look around and see a shaft on each side of the bed. You walk towards it, but as soon as you touch it, you’re back in the room from before, on the other side of the fragile floor.

_[Good job!]_

_*It was an accident. You did not do that well._

You wipe off the knees of your pants and decide to ignore Left and listen to Right. You made it through this trap ( _*Puzzle_ ) without dying; that had to be worth something, right? You check your inventory for your bowl of monster candy and take out a piece.

_[Wait!]_

You wait, frozen, candy half-unwrapped.

_*Save that for when your HP is low. It’ll heal you._

You stopped yourself from sending another question mark because HP, too, made perfect sense. It was what made you feel weak or strong. You have most of it left, so you stick the licorice-scented candy back in the bowl and the bowl back in your inventory. Mourning the loss of the sweet, you walk to the next room.

Your phone rings.

You do drop it this time, but you pick it up and answer it before it goes to voicemail. It’s Mo—To—M—Ms. Mom Goat, not like you expected anyone else. “Hello? This is Toriel.” You knew already, but you don’t say anything. “For no reason in particular… Which do you prefer? Cinnamon or butterscotch?”

You think for a long moment. Why does she want to know? Is she making something? You like butterscotch, but cinnamon is good, too, just not if there’s a lot…and butterscotch isn’t very good with some things, and you might change your mind later…

Ms. Mom Goat coughs awkwardly after several minutes. “Shall I guess?” she asks. “Wait, do not tell me…is it butterscotch?”

“Yes,” you say quickly, because it’s easier to agree with her than make up your own mind.

“Hee hee hee. I had a feeling.” She begins to sound wistful. “When humans fall down here, strangely… I…I often feel like I already know them. Truthfully, when I first saw you, I felt…like I was seeing an old friend for the first time. Strange, is it not?” You make a noncommittal noise from deep in your throat. The voices feel uneasy. Ms. Mom Goat laughs again. “Oh, but that is just silly, isn’t it? Well, thank you for your selection.” You hear a click as the phone disconnects.

The voices go wild.

_*Did she remember before?_

_[Maybe? Don’t remember…]_

_*Well if_ we _do not remember, how could_ she _?_

_[Don’t know.]_

_*What if she does something different? We will not know what to do!_

_[Don’t know!]_

_*Stop saying you don’t know! I_ know _you do not know!_

_[Then stop asking!]_

You tell the voices to stop and keep walking, putting that awful conversation behind you.

The phone rings again.

You drop it twice this time, but pick up on the last ring, just in time. “You do not DISLIKE cinnamon, do you?” The voices both laugh nervously. Again, you don’t see the humor. “I know what your preference is, but…Would you turn up your nose if you found it on your plate?” You make another noncommittal noise, this one a sort of humming sound. “Right, right, I understand.” You don’t know how she understood when even you couldn’t. “Thank you for being patient, by the way.” The phone hangs up again.

Hoping there won’t be another phone call, you head towards the sign you just spotted on the wall. Before you make it, a Froggit hops close—close enough to yank out your soul, anyway.

_*Life is hard for this enemy,_ Left reminds you quickly. Right is judging you silently. You feel your sins crawling up your back—no, that’s the wrong line.

Froggit croaks and a stream of flies rush towards you. You manage to avoid them easily, being the dodging master and all. You aren’t going to kill this one. You _aren’t._ But it’s trying to kill you, so…

_*Fight                   [Compliment]_

You think an incredulous look at Left, which Right mirrors. Left seems unfazed.

_*When a monster’s health gets too low, it will usually not want to fight. Fight it gently and it will not die._

You and Right continue to stare.

_[Compliment]_ Right repeats after a moment.

You aren’t about to compliment something that’s trying to kill you, but you feel too guilty about…before…to even pull your stake out. Maybe you can scare it away…

You tell it that you’ll…hurt it…in…some way… After speaking, you realize how pathetic you sounded, but Froggit cowers in front of you and looks like it’s trying to hop away. There really isn’t anything stopping it, but it didn’t seem to want to hop more than three inches, seven and a half centimeters away. You make a gesture you hope looks placating, palms facing it. Froggit hops away, dropping two coins. You pick them up, sighing, and finally read that sign. These fights aren’t too hard once you get used to them…oh, the sign: Three out of four grey rocks recommend you push them.

You look around but only see one rock. You push it anyway, onto the switch, which triggers the spikes, sending them into the floor. You grin shakily and make your way to the next room, slouching just a little less than usual.

Of course, there’s another puzzle, a sign saying only not to step on the leaves. The floor is scuffed like before, but there are only leaves in front of a sign far away. You step onto the scuffed floor and fall immediately. Well. You note the leaf pattern, though, and avoid it perfectly on your next attempt. You walk into the next room on the coattails of Right’s praises.

So that’s where the other rocks are. You push the other rocks onto the switches, just like the first, when something speaks to you.

“WHOA there, pardner! Who said you could push me around?” You freeze. Is the rock…? You…don’t know what to do.

“Buh,” you say lamely, “wha-buh?” _*Smooth._

The rock seems to understand it. Somehow. _Why._ “HMM? So you’re ASKIN’ me to move over?” Oh, look, you’re vibrating now. This is fine. You are definitely okay with the present situation as it is unfolding. “Okay, just for you, pumpkin.” You nod wordlessly. “HMM? You want me to move some more?” Wait, what? You blink out of your trance and see that yeah, you would like the rock to move some more. It’s not on the switch. “Alrighty, how’s this?” You start to nod, but no, that’s wrong. “HMM? That was the wrong direction? Okay, think I got it.” It’s on the switch now. This nightmare is over. You walk towards the un-spiked floor when suddenly, it becomes re-spiked. You turn back to the rock in horror. “Was that helpful?” No, no it wasn’t. “HMM? You wanted me to STAY there? You’re giving me a real workout.” You go back to the spikes and the rock stays, thank goodness. The voices laugh at your suffering, but you pointedly ignore them and go on your way.

The Whimsun and Froggit you encounter aren’t much of an issue, unlike that talking grey hunk of mineral deposits. You attempt to console the poor moth, but it flies off just like the other, crying louder than before. You direct all your frustrations at your threat to the Froggit, but still don’t manage to be very threatening, in your opinion or the voices’. The Froggit disagrees and gets scared, just like the last one, and you spare it, wondering if it might have somehow been the same one from before.

In the next room, you spot a table with some cheese on it. There’s a mouse hole in the wall. Upon closer inspection, you note the cheese is somehow stuck to the table. You can’t even remove a crumb. It’s fossilized.

Knowing that even if the mouse leaves its hole it won’t be able to get the cheese…it fills you with discomfort.


	5. Chapter 4

You try to forget the mouse, but something about it resonates with you. The cheese is right there, in sight, but unattainable. That poor mouse…after being bugged by the voices a bit more, you finally leave the room, glancing back at the mouse hole. Inside, the mouse squeaks at you. You dare try a little hopeful smile, and somehow, you feel stronger. You can face whatever comes at you.

You were not prepared for a ghost.

It’s standing in your way, saying “z” repeatedly, pretending to sleep. You walk towards it and hear it wondering if “they” are gone yet, which you guess might mean yourself. Even if it is a ghost, you feel like it would be really rude to walk through it. Waking it up would be rude, too, even if it isn’t really sleeping.

_*Move them with force?_

No, that’s a bad idea. Your hand would go right through them, wouldn’t it?

_*You gotta._

You puff out your cheeks in annoyance. You don’t “gotta” do anything! You can sit and wait for them to wake up all day if you want to!

_[But they won’t wake up…]_

_*No, just leave them. They will figure it out eventually._

You cross your arms and plop down on the floor. You can wait for as long as you need to. The ghost will wake up eventually. The voices don’t know what they’re talking about. You wait. And wait. And wait a little more. You…aren’t exactly sure how long you’ve been waiting. The ghost is still muttering “z” and questioning if you’ve left yet. Eventually, you give up. The voices are right. Again. You walk to the ghost and poke them gently in the side. They stand—or rather become vertical instead of horizontal—and your soul gets pulled from your chest. Again.

_*Here comes Napstablook._ How does the voice know the ghost’s name? _*They don’t seem to have a sense of humor._

The ghost looks at you morosely. “oh, i’m REAL funny…”

You nearly get hit by a wave of tears in your surprise. Did…did they hear the voice, too? Oh, no, you did get hit by some tears there as they fell from the ceiling. They stop after a moment and, not knowing what to do, you try sending them a cruel look, telling them you’re going to…make them move? You guess? Maybe?

“go ahead,” they say, “do it.”

Words cover the ground. “REALLY NOT FEELIN UP TO IT RIGHT NOW. SORRY.” They disappear after a moment, but you stay still, shifting awkwardly, playing with the bandage charm on your necklace. How are you supposed to make good on your threat?

The tears start again, before you can do anything. They fall at you from the ceiling, twist around in the air, and you can’t avoid them. You feel that sickening pain again, far worse than before. The tears get harder to avoid, hitting your soul, until finally…

Something breaks.

It’s your soul, you realize numbly, staring at it as the world darkens around you. This is how you die, and you’ve accepted it. You always knew you’d die in a pool of tears, but you never expected they’d be someone else’s. The dark void closes in on you. At least nothing hurts anymore.

Dimly, you hear a voice in the darkness.

“You cannot give up just yet… Chisk! Stay determined!”

The dark doesn’t fade, but it isn’t as if someone had turned on a light, either. The world is simply there again, as if nothing had happened. As if you hadn’t died. You blink from your stupor and lock eyes with the cheese. It sits, exactly as it did before, being a dairy product. The mouse, too, is as it was before:  in the hole, squeaking faintly. It never did get the cheese. You are filled with discomfort—no, that’s the wron—no, it’s just too early, nevermind.

_*Will you stop staring at the cheese already? You are worse than_ them _._

_[That’s mean!]_

_*_ You’re _mean!_

_[Am not!]_

Right sounds distraught, but you can’t care. You died. Why don’t they care?

_*What was that?_

You died.

_*I think we would realize it if you died._

_[Feeling sick?]_

_*Your HP seems alright. You just healed._

You _died._

_*No, you did not die. Do not be overdramatic with me. I will get enough of that attitude later. Stupid calculator…_

_[Hold on. Explain, please.]_

There isn’t much to explain. You blacked out. You died. Didn’t they see?

_*You are all being idiots. Just go already._

_[That might be a good idea…]_

You give up on talking to them. They’re no help. You listen to them, though, and move on to the next room. Napstablook is still there, pretending to be asleep, saying “z.” They didn’t even care that they killed you. You’ll give them a scare, that’s for sure. They’ll probably think you’re a ghost, too.

_*Move them with force?_

You barely wait for the prompt before you’re already jabbing them in the side. They pretend to wake up, just as before. Their face didn’t light with recognition, didn’t act any differently. They didn’t recognize you.

_*Here comes Napstablook. They don’t seem to have a sense of humor._

“oh, i’m REAL funny…”

Tears fall from their eyes at you, up to the ceiling, and fall back towards you. This isn’t right. You get hit with far more tears than you thought possible, stabbing your soul. The pain radiates from your core, just as before. Everything happens just as before. You didn’t come back to life, you realize as a particularly large tear flies past your arm. You never died.

_*The faint odor of ectoplasm permeates the vicinity,_ Left comments. _*I suggest you eat that candy now._

You refuse. You stand your ground, biting your lip anticipation, banking on your memory of something that never happened.

Napstablook seems to take your stance as a threat. “go ahead, do it.” The floor, once again, is covered in foggy letters. You were right. _Nothing_ had changed.

You eat the candy, dodge the next wave nearly perfectly, and think about how you can end this peacefully. If you can stop the ghost from crying, they’ll stop hurting you. You’ll have to cheer them up. You flash Napstablook a shaky smile. They look a bit better.

“heh…” They still cry, though, and you manage to avoid the tears again. You tell them a little joke, but you mess up the punchline. They don’t seem to notice. “heh…heh…” You don’t get hit by a single tear this time. They seem to be cheering up. You laugh with them because you can’t think of anything else positive to do.

_*Napstablook wants to show you something._

They do, it seems. “let me try…” They cry again, but the tears look different, and they move upwards. They form into the shape of a hat. “i call it “dapper blook…” do you like it…”

You smile. It looks nice on them! “You look nice,” you tell them quietly.

“oh gee…” Your soul returns to your chest. You breathe a sigh of relief. “i usually come to the RUINS because there’s nobody around… but today i met somebody nice… … oh, i’m rambling again. i’ll get out of your way.” They disappear. You tell them it’s okay, you don’t mind, but they’re already gone.

You sigh. You didn’t mean to scare off another monster. You forget about that, though, and walk through the door directly ahead.

It’s a small room, with two large spider webs. A sign reads:  Spider bake sale All profits go to real spiders

You step on something. You look down and see it was a spider. It scurries away, a few legs bent oddly. You feel terrible. You drop all the gold you’ve found, 10g, into the web as an apology. Another spider collects it. Just as you’re about to leave, the spider brings you a donut in thanks. You thank it back, moving your hand to your mouth and back down quickly. The spider seems to understand you and waves a leg above its body at you.

You go through the other door. A few Froggits sit around the path, and you decide to avoid them. You don’t want to have to fight another one. A sign tells you about the spider bake sale you already accidentally stepped on. You feel guilty.

Suddenly, a piece of gelatin flops into your path.

_*It is a moldsmal. Get it right for once._ You mentally glare at the voice. _*Stereotypical: Curvaceously attractive, but no brains…_ You send several consecutive question marks to Left, but it doesn’t bother to reply. It’s…slime? How is it…?

You’re distracted by the attack, spores flying through the air. You avoid them easily, but you honestly have no idea what to do. So you just…lie there. On the floor. You lie on the floor with Moldsmal and feel like you understand the world a little better.

_*Smells like lime gelatin._

Moldsmal lets out more spores, but being on the floor, you avoid most of them. You think it’s over and stand back up, but one hits you. It doesn’t hurt badly, but it’s…slimy. You feel uncomfortable. You begin to vibrate. Moldsmal wiggles back.

_*What a meaningful conversation!_

You take that as a hint you might have to talk. You tell Moldsmal you don’t want to fight. It slinks away, oozing three coins as it leaves. Grimacing, you pick them up.

You walk right into another Moldsmal, this one next to a…beetle?

_*Migosp._ You’re glad Left didn’t have a sarcastic comment this time. Maybe that means it likes you more. _*Do not count on it. Migosp—seems evil, but it’s just with the wrong crowd._ There with the comments again.

Migosp looks angry. “FILTHY SINGLE MINDER.” You blink in shock, but avoid the attacks easily. You tell the Moldsmal you don’t want to fight, and as soon as it leaves, Migosp smiles widely. “Swing your arms, baby!”

You’re confused for a moment, but suddenly a tiny version of it starts dancing in front of you. You smile. “How are you?” you ask it. It’s the first monster—other than Ms. Mom Goat and Napstablook—that isn’t trying to kill you. Well, it did for a minute, but like Left said, it was just with the wrong crowd.

“Hiya!”

You keep trying to talk to it, but it won’t say anything else. You’re a bit disappointed, but it seems to want to be alone, so you tell it you don’t want to fight and move on your way.

One of the Froggits ribbit at you. You freeze, expecting a battle, but it just keeps ribbitting.

_*You don’t understand, do you?_ No. _*Fine. It is telling you that you have been merciful and informing you that monsters turn yellow when they can be spared._ What? _*Just tell it that it is good._

You tell it that the information is helpful.

_*It says that you may have to spare someone if they are not yellow sometime._

Alright. That makes sense. Not. You keep walking.

You don’t make it two steps before the phone rings. Once again, it’s Ms. Mom Goat.

“I just realized that it has been a while since I have cleaned up. I was not expecting to have company so soon. There are probably a lot of things lying about here and there. You can pick them up, but do not carry more than you need. Someday you might see something you really like. You will want to leave room in your pockets for that.” You make another humming noise. She hangs up.

_*She tells us this_ after _we have taken all of her candy._

_[It was nice, though.]_

_*But pointless._

_[But nice!]_

_*I cannot even talk to you, can I?_

_[She’s nice!]_

_*…_

You finally make it to the next room, another puzzle. The sign tells you there’s only one switch, but you don’t see any. Just scuffed floor. Hold on… You fall through one of the floors on purpose, landing in leaves again. You live! You also spot something on the ground. It’s a ribbon. 

_*Not worth it._  

You like your necklace better, but you take it with you anyway. You don’t wear it, though. It feels too rough.

You seem to try every hole but the right one, finding a vegetable ( _*Vegetoid._ ) that seemed to want to help you but hurt you twice as much as its greens healed, a weird eyeball ( _*Loox Eyewalker._ ), and Napstablook. The ghost fell down too, but they forgot they could leave. They floated away and left you after a moment, though. You wish they would stay longer and talk. Eventually, you do find the switch and go to the next room.

The switch puzzle was the easiest, if a bit time consuming. You run into a few monsters on the way, but you’re the dodging master. …the dodging master still had to eat another monster candy. Once you make it through, you walk through the first green leaves you’ve seen, avoiding the larger path in favor of the one directly ahead. There’s another door, and you walk through.

On the floor lay a knife. 

_[Plastic,]_ Right assured quickly. You calm your automatic panic. Oh. That’s…good. You pick it up anyway, like the ribbon. Your inventory is big enough. You go back, through the larger path. You walk towards the first tree you’ve seen, but stop before walking any further. Is that Ms. Mom?

“Oh, dear, that took longer than I thought it would…the poor child…” She puts her phone to her ear, but puts it away when she spots you. “How did you get here, my child? Are you hurt?” You look down at yourself, mentally assessing your state. Maybe a little? “There, there, I will heal you. Who did this to you? You will get an apology.” You look at her. No, no apology necessary! “I should not have left you alone for so long. It was irresponsible to try to surprise you like this.” Her eyes go wide. “Err…Well, I suppose I cannot hide it any longer.” She smiles, gesturing towards the distance. “Come, small one!”

You stay where you are. Surprise? What surprise? You finally follow her, inching as slowly as before. It’s nice to see her again, but…

Oh, is that a house? Why is there a house in the middle of…catacombs, did she call them? The ruins? Why is there a house?

Seeing such a cute, tidy house in the ruins feels too good to be true. The anticipation of something horribly wrong happening fills you with discomfort.


	6. Chapter 5

You finally convince yourself to go in the house, remembering that even if something bad happens and you end up dead, you have the cheese to fall back on, even if you’re not sure how or why. Besides, the voices are bugging you.

Ms. Mom is waiting for you in the foyer, hands clasped in what seems to be anticipation. “Do you smell that?” she asks, hopefully rhetorically, since you don’t think you want to talk right now. “Surprise!” It was rhetorical, good. “It is a butterscotch-cinnamon pie.” You don’t smile, but your eyes do. That’s why she asked you about butterscotch and cinnamon. “I thought we might celebrate your arrival. I want you to have a nice time living here, so I will hold off on snail pie for tonight.” You resist the urge to wrinkle your nose. That sounds kind of gross. The two voices seem to have starkly differing opinions from each other, but Right agrees with you, so you decide you like them better at the moment. “Here, I have another surprise for you.” She walks down the hallway.

You walk down the stairs.

_*Are you serious?_

_[Exploring! But maybe don’t go down there yet.]_

Ms. Mom runs after you before you can actually see anything. “It is dangerous to play down there, my child,” she says nervously, latching onto your hand like a vice grip. You can’t pull away. “Why don’t you check out my surprise?” You’re back in the foyer and she’s down the hall before you can respond. You finally do follow her and find her standing near a door.

“This is it,” she says, grabbing you hand again before you can even think to avoid it and leading you all the way to the door, even though you were perfectly capable of walking there yourself. “A room of your own. I hope you like it!” She reaches over to ruffle your hair, but you duck just in time to avoid it. Thank goodness. You must have looked too relieved, because Ms. Mom looks over, concern etched obviously onto her face. “My child, are you…? I never meant—” Suddenly, she looks up, sniffing the air. “Is something burning…? Um, make yourself at home!” She rushes off, looking distracted.

You stand where you are in fear for a moment. You _had_ been tired, but knowing the house might burn down has scared you into wakefulness. You can’t sleep knowing you may die. You run after Ms. Mom and find her sitting in an arm chair, reading a book calmly, glasses sitting on her…snout? She looks up and smiles once she sees you. “Hello there, little one! The pie has not cooled down yet. Perhaps you should take a nap.”

So the house _hasn’t_ burnt down. That’s comforting, but you feel too nervous to sleep still. You shake your head ‘no.’

“You’d rather stay up and chat with me, then?”

You consider the question for a short moment before nodding. She doesn’t exactly seem the talkative type, but you doubt you’ll actually have to speak much. She glances around, like she’s thinking of what to say.

“Um, I want you to know how glad I am to have someone here.” You briefly wonder how long she’s been alone, but she speaks again before you can think too much. “There are so many old books I want to share.” Books sound nice. “I want to show you my favorite bug-hunting spot.” Bugs not so much, but you think you’re willing to try. “I’ve also prepared a curriculum for your education. This may come as a surprise to you…but I have always wanted to be a teacher.” You look up at her. You wouldn’t have thought it before, but she really seems like the teaching type. “…actually, perhaps that isn’t very surprising.” Oh no did she read your mind? …she probably just read your face. “STILL. I am glad to have you living here.” You smile and nod. The house is nice. You wouldn’t mind staying here. “Oh, did you want something?”

You stare at her in wide-eyed panic, despite knowing too well you really shouldn’t be this worried. You don’t want anything! You’re fine! She doesn’t have to worry about you! But you’re still so worked up from the threat of burning alive that you know if you try to speak, the only thing that will come out is a high-pitched, grating squeak that you won’t be able to stop. You just shake your head instead.

She’s smiling again, but it’s a worried one. Is she worried about you? She doesn’t say that, though. “Well,” she says instead, “talk to me again if you need anything.” You nod and turn to leave, more than ready to hide your shame and explore the house a bit more.

You check the bookshelf, but when you pick up a book, you’re too distracted to do much but skim it. Something about barriers, attacks, and bad names. It looks like a history book about the Underground, so you decide you’ll read it when you can concentrate more. Maybe knowing more about this place will make it less scary.

You find the pie cooling in the small kitchen. It smells delicious, but you’ll burn your tongue if you eat it now. There’s a bar of chocolate in the refrigerator, though you can’t begin to guess why, and white fur in the sink, which has a much simpler explanation.

You walk past Ms. Mom and into the hallway, catching sight of a weirdly hotdog-shaped plant. Maybe you’re calm enough to sleep. You enter what Ms. Mom called “your room” and look around a bit. It’s a cute little guest room, if a bit red for your liking. Some stuffed animals sit between the bed and wall. There’s a toybox filled with cool but dusty toys you have no interest in. A surprising number of shoes sit on a rack in the corner and the walls are covered in drawings. You turn the lamp off and cross to the bed. It’s comfortable. You could probably sleep.

Probably.

It seems like you’ve just closed your eyes when a sliver of light falls on them. You sit up, terrified, and stare into the bright hallway, even if it hurts your eyes and you can barely see through it. The crack widens enough for a dark figure to slip through, tiptoe halfway into the room, and stop.

“My child?” the figure asks, “are you having trouble sleeping?”

It’s Ms. Mom, not a…a Froggit, or mean ghost, or a Vegetoid, or anything else that would hurt you. It’s just Mom.

She speaks again before you can answer. “I know I suggested you take a nap, but please do not think I am forcing you. If you cannot sleep, you can stay up with me. I simply thought you might have wanted to, since you had a long day.” You can barely make out her kind smile. “If you would like, you can join me for a slice of this pie in the living room. It has finally cooled!”

You only think for a fraction of a second before you smile and nod, standing up. She returns the smile and walks out the door, pushing it open wider now that she didn’t have to worry about waking you.

By the time you get to the living room, which also seemed to be the dining room, two slices of pie were already sitting on the large table with a vase of golden flowers, but by the time you sit down, you realize that Mom is nowhere in sight. You crane your neck to look in the kitchen and spot her on the way out, carrying to glasses of milk.

“I thought that a glass of milk would be good to wash the pie down,” she explains, sitting beside you. “You are not lactose intolerant, are you? I would not want you to get a stomach ache.”

You shake your head, even though you’re not sure if you are or not, and poke at the pie with your fork. After a fraction of a second to contemplate the possibility of poison, smell check it for an almond scent, and discretely watch Mom take her first bite, you take a bite yourself.

It’s the most delicious thing you’ve ever tasted.

She takes one look at your face and begins to giggle, covering her mouth politely to contrast the few crumbs spilling from her mouth. “Do you like it, then?” she asks, trying to stop her laughter. You nod enthusiastically. She laughs louder. “Oh, I am sorry, my child,” she says to your affronted look, “you just remind me of someone. Once, I forgot their fork, went to retrieve one for them, and came back to find them eating with their hands!” Her laughter fades. “You remind me of them so much, little one,” she says, “even your face…” She claps her hands together with finality, returning the smile you hadn’t noticed had dropped. “Well, the past is the past, is it not? Let us finish our pie!”

You continue the meal in silence.

The voices’ silence is the loudest yet.

Once you finish the pie and lick up the crumbs with your fingers, Ms. Mom suggests that if you are still not tired, you could read a book together. She has ever so many books, she’s sure you’ll find something you like. You nod. Books sound good.

“Oh,” she says as you begin to search the shelves for the history book you glanced through before. You turn around to see her looking at the Toriel-sized armchair with a hand over her mouth in contemplation. “I only have one armed chair out here. I cannot ask you to sit on a dining chair or the floor.”

Tentatively, you tap her arm to get her attention. Once she’s looking at you, you point at the books, then the hallway. Hopefully that makes sense.

She furrows her brows for a moment, biting her lip. Her eyes brighten. “Oh! Do you want to read in your room, little one?” You smile and nod. She understands you! “Of course! Would you like me to join you?” You smile and nod again. “That sounds lovely. Have you picked out your book?” You search the shelves a moment longer, find it, then nod once again. “Good. Come, little one.” She reaches for your hand, but you flinch away. She could have grabbed it still, but instead she let you walk behind her on your own. You smile.

You sit on your bed with her, reading, for what seems like forever. It’s nice. It’s…comfortable. Somehow, that word seems like the strongest term you could possibly use, and you feel like it fits. You close your eyes, smile, and take in a deep breath of Toriel, of old books and butterscotch-cinnamon pie and flowers you can’t name. You feel comfortable and you never want it to end.

It does, sadly. When you open your eyes, you’re lying down, staring into darkness at the carefully marked history book on the side table. You sit up, letting the quilt fall off of you, and catch a glimpse of a slice of pie on the floor. As much as you’d love to eat it immediately, you’re too full, so you place it gingerly in your inventory.

You tiptoe out of the room in case you’ve slept until nighttime and Mom is already asleep, but you find her awake in her chair.

“Up already, I see,” she says. “Do you want to hear an exciting snail fact? Or did you want something?”

You bite your lip, suddenly remembering something you wanted to ask her. Something very important. You’re not sure how to say it, since you don’t feel like talking with morning dry mouth, but you remember she understood you before. You hold your hand up in a fist with your thumb between the index and middle finger, the sign for “t,” and twist it from side to side. You don’t know how you know sign language, but you hope Mom knows it, too.

She does. “Oh, the bathroom? It is down the hall, my child. I suppose I should have given you a better tour of the house before now…”

You smile and move your hand to your mouth and back down as a thank-you and run to find the toilet.

Once you’re done, you decide to explore the hallway better. You pass the hotdog plant and a drawer full of seeds and keep going. You peak in the door next to your room, glance down the hall, and finally decide to go in. It looks like Ms. Mom’s room. You see a journal on the desk but don’t read it. You’re defying her privacy enough already.

_*It is just puns anyway._

And that’s how the voices greet you after hours of silence. You send a mental question mark but that, too, goes unanswered.

_*Do you know what the chair is called?_

_*Chairiel._

_[That’s awful!]_

_*You loved it._

_[Yeah.]_

You flip through a book of flowers, skimming an entry about tubelike plants, and finally leave, moving to the next door. There’s a sign, but you catch a glimpse of the hotdog plants before you can read them. You grin in delight. They’re water sausages! You read the sign, excited to be able to identify at least one plant. “Room under renovations.” You frown again immediately. If Mom usually didn’t have guests, why would she need the sign?

You move on down the hall and spot a mirror. You can finally get a good look at yourself. …why don’t you know what you look like?

There you are, though. Eyes pink and wide in constant terror, mouth pulled tight because you never know what to say, necklace dangling just a little below your brown scarf, down into the magenta of your striped sweater. It’s you.

Before you get the thought out, the voices disagree.

_*[It’s us!]_

You feel sick to your stomach.

You stare into the mirror for a long time—or do “we” stare in the mirror? “We” feel very confused. “We” want to…you don’t know. No, “we” don’t know. We stare at the face staring us down in the mirror and watch it smile widely, knowing we, too, have the same horrifying expression. We fear it, yet we keep smiling. We smile until our face hurts.

_[Please calm down. This is…scary.]_

You know. This is scaring you, too—no, us, it’s scaring _us._

_*Are you even hearing yourself right now? You are not making any sense._

You know. _We_ know.

_[Please stop.]_

_*Listen to me. You cannot do this yet. You have too many things to do._

_[Mom will be worried.]_

_*You have to pull yourself together, and yes, I mean yourself. You need to stop with this “we” thing. You are not me or Fr—Right in any way._

_[It’s getting a little creepy. Please be alright.]_

_*Just breathe._

We—you do. You drop the smile that scared you as much as it scared the voices and take a deep breath. They’re just…there. They aren’t you. You can accept that. But then…

What are they?

_*Guides.             [Friends!]_

_[No, friends!]_

_*“Guide” is far more accurate._

_[But…friends!]_

_*We are guiding them, alright?_ Left snaps finally. _*We are not friends. We are simply here to make sure they do not die. We are here to make sure everyone lives. We are here to get the good ending. We cannot afford to be their friend because we do not know how long this will last! Do you understand me?_

Right is silent for a long time. _[Right,]_ it says eventually.

You can’t begin to comprehend what the voices are talking about, so you give up before you break the surface. You doubt you’ll ever understand what they mean, so ignoring it is much easier.

_[Feeling better?]_

Yes. Yes, you are. There’s something inside you, something like perseverance or fortitude or resolve, that made sure you were okay. You…you decide to accept the voices as they are. They’ve given good advice, they’ve been friendly, and even if they haven’t been very good at keeping you alive, they’ve been helpful. They were annoying at times, but…you liked them.

You stare at yourself in the mirror, directly into your own eyes. Slowly, deliberately, you move your hand up to your mouth and back down again. Thanks.

Before either of them can respond, you nearly skip down the hall, ready to hear some exciting snail facts.

Despite your cheerfulness, one thought still poisons your brain.

The grim realization that your thoughts have never been truly your own…it fills you with discomfort.


	7. Chapter 6

You spend an altogether ridiculous amount of time with Mom. You love hearing random facts, love reading with her late nights when you can’t sleep, love the butterscotch-cinnamon pie, love the quiet, undemanding conversations, and even start to like the snail pie she loves so much. You love having someone who understands you when you can’t speak, love how she finally realized you can’t stand as much physical affection as she wants to give and she just accepted it. You love sitting in front of the pleasantly warm fire with her, never having to worry about being burnt. You love the Ruins, the closed-off spaces you know you can explore safely now that the monsters know you. You love the spiders at the bake sale who never forgot how apologetic you were about stepping on one of them and gave you a discount on cider. You love watching Migosp dance in pure joy once he’s alone, love catching sight of Napstablook every once in a while, and even love watching the Froggits hop around in confusion, wondering where they are and how they got there but never once seeming upset at their new location. You love your home.

You love your Mom so much.

You want to stay with her forever, but the voices disagree. They seem to love Mom as much as you, but for some reason, they keep trying to make you ask about leaving her. They want you to ask about going home, but you don’t remember a home other than, well…Home. You don’t even remember how you got underground but you know that you were on the surface once, a long time ago, even if you don’t remember what it was like.

“My child, would you like to help with the pie this time?”

You snap out of your thoughts and nod happily.

_*Ask about leaving._

“Would you get a whisk out of the drawer? I am trying a meringue today.”

You search the drawer for the whisk and notice something troubling. Where are the knives? The sharpest thing in the kitchen is a butter knife, and that couldn’t cut the crust on her pies as smoothly as she did. Come to think of it, you’ve never seen her cut the pie. Maybe she has knife magic, too, like her fire magic? You’re…not sure how that would work, exactly. You find the whisk and hand it to her.

“Thank you, little one. I think I will use the yolks left over for a custard pie.”

_[Ask to leave the Ruins.]_ Pause. _[Please.]_

_*Or ask about the knives. See what she says to that._

You force your throat to work in not-so-silent protest. “Custard sounds good,” you say with what is hopefully a convincing smile.

“Very good!” She looks at you, beaming. “You are very good. You have been such a help, my child. Thank you. Would you like to help roll the crust?

_*You need to leave. Now._

You take the pin silently, rather than speak, since it didn’t help before and now you’re too upset to talk anyway. Well, maybe “upset” isn’t the word. “Annoyed” might be better. Why would you ever want to leave? This place is amazing. There’s nothing for you on the surface.

Suddenly, you feel a lightbulb above Right’s nonexistent head.

_[Not the surface, but what about the rest of the Underground?]_

Left followed quickly.

_*Yes, what else is there? You have read the history book. You know that there are more monsters, far more than you have seen here, far more than could fit in these tiny Ruins._

_[Why would Mom stay all alone?]_

_*You should ask her._

You frown. That is actually a very good point. There’s so much more to the Underground. You’ve read about a snowy place, a wet place, and a fiery place. The Ruins isn’t like any of those. Maybe Mom could show you? You’ve never been much of an adventurer, but you never thought you’d be much of a bug-catcher, either, and you loved seeing Mom’s bug-catching spot.

“Is there something wrong, dear?”

You had stopped mid-roll in thought, leaving the rolling pin to dig a thick line into the crust as you stared into oblivion. No wonder Mom was worried. “Thinking,” you say.

Her smile looks sad. “I see. Do you want to talk about it?”

“Yes,” you say, surprising both her and yourself with your sudden boldness. “Is there more to the Underground?”

Her eyes go wide, before she flicks them around and laughs nervously. “Why would you ask such a silly thing as that, my child?” She chuckles some more, nothing like her true laugh, and changes the subject. “Oh, an exciting snail fact I’ve just remembered! Did you know that snails sometimes flip their digestive systems as they mature?”

That _is_ a pretty interesting fact, but she didn’t answer your question.

_*Did you really think she would?_

You frown at the voice and try again. “Mom, have you seen the rest of the underground?” You don’t want to turn this into an interrogation, but that’s what’s happening. You force a smile. “Can you tell me some stories?”

Her eyes widen again. “There’s nothing you would want to hear about, I’m sure,” she says. “Would you mind rolling out that crust, dear?”

_[This is going to end bad…]_

_*It’ll be fine, shut up._

You’re getting angry. You don’t know why you’re this angry, but you are. Why was she trying to keep this from you? Why won’t she give you a straight answer? “Mom, please,” you say, snapping, “I just want to see what’s out there!”

Regret swarms in the second you say it. Mom looks shocked and even a little sad at your outburst. ‘Disappointed’ is the word that springs to mind and you hate it. You don’t want her to be disappointed in you. You don’t know why you said that. You want to take it back.

Instead of yelling, Mom does something worse. She turns around, slowly and calmly. “I have to do something,” she says evenly. “Stay here.”

You stare after her, feeling worse than before. She must have felt worse about what you said than you thought if she had to run off to collect herself. After a long moment, you turn back to the crust. Maybe if you have something done by the time she gets back she’ll feel a little better.

_*Are you serious right now?_

Now that you’re alone, you’re free to emote towards the voices, so you physically arch or knit or raise or do something with your eyebrows that conveys a question. It’s kind of hard to tell what your eyebrows are doing on your face, so you try to do them all at once. Left giggles at you a little.

_*She is not upset, idiot. She is actually doing something, and that something is very dangerous for our plans if you do not follow her!_

_[Be nice!]_

_*I cannot be nice when this idiot is just as stupidly optimistic as you, just more clueless._

You glare at the voices. Well, you glare where you imagine they’d be, which happens to be just above your eyebrows, since they’re in your mind, probably.

_[Hey, maybe she needs cheered up? Follow her!]_

You ponder that for a moment. You never thought of that. Where would she have gone?

Left answers immediately. _*Downstairs._ It thinks a quiet _*Genius_ to the other voice.

You take a moment to wonder how the voice knows, but they knew other things, so you trust them. They love Mom as much as you. They would want you to help her. As you make your way to the stairs, you barely feel the voices’ guilt.

Downstairs is…interesting. It looks like the Ruins, all purple and gloomy, and nothing like Mom’s home. The hallway seems to stretch on forever, but you run into Mom eventually. She looks a little scary, honestly, with a hard look in her eyes.

You’re about to ask if she’s okay, but she speaks before you can. “You wish to see what else there is down here, do you not?” You nod. What is she doing down here? “Ahead of us lies the end of the Ruins. A one-way exit to the rest of the underground.” One way? That explains why she doesn’t want to leave, then. …or is that why she can’t leave? “I am going to destroy it.” Wait a second, what? “No one will ever be able to leave again. Now be a good child and go upstairs.”

She runs off, but you follow her. She can’t just leave you with that! You need answers! Once you catch up, you try to ask why she doesn’t want you to leave, but she speaks before you can.

She looks away from you. “Every human that falls down here meets the same fate. I have seen it again and again. They come. They leave. They die.” Die? Why do they die? She looks at you for just long enough to see the question on your face and answers it. “You naive child… If you leave the Ruins… They… Asgore… Will kill you.” Who’s Asgore? Why do people want to kill you? “I am only protecting you, do you understand?” She looks desperate. “…go to your room.”

You follow her again. Who’s As—hold on, that name sounds familiar. He’s the king, isn’t he? You read it in the history book. He’s looking for humans to…power a device to drill to the surface? You fell asleep just as you were reading that part. You catch up with her at a bend in the road. She doesn’t even look at you. “Do not try to stop me. This is your final warning.” She turns to leave again.

…you know what, you never wanted to see the rest of the Underground _that_ badly! You’re just…you’re just going to go back upstairs. You’ll talk with her later. Not knowing what else to do, you go to your room to sleep. Hopefully, she’ll be done by the time you wake up.

You have a dream.

It isn’t a very clear dream, or a very good one. You just hear a voice. The same voice as the time you died.

“Chisk, please… wake up! You are the future of humans and monsters…”

You wake up, and you can’t sleep again. Suddenly, you know what you have to do. You drag yourself from the bed and slowly return downstairs, dreading what’s going to come next. The voices seem somber.

You find Mom standing in front of a giant door.

“Hmph. You are just like the others. There is only one solution to this. Prove yourself… Prove to me you are strong enough to survive!”

Your soul is torn from your chest, beginning a fight. You don’t want to fight your Mom!

_[She knows best for you.]_

Oddly, the other voice is silent.

She shoots a trail of fire at you. You move out of the way, but a fireball catches your arm. Your sleeve is fine, but your skin and very soul both hiss in protest, tingling painfully. You pull the sleeve up when you have a moment to breathe, but instead of the terrible blistering you expected, it barely looked red. You blink away tears and open your mouth to speak, but you take one look at her face and you can’t. She’s looking right through you.

You dodge the next wave, but just barely. The fireballs seemed to follow you. You take a deep breath and a step forward. You don’t want to fight her. She looks away, acting aloof, and fires more at you. You get hit twice, but you stand your ground. You don’t want to fight her. She remains silent, but it takes longer for her to attack again.

This time, you get hit three times. You cry out, but you know you can’t run away. You won’t fight her. She attacks again and again and again, but you won’t hurt her!

“What are you doing?” she demands on her next attack. “Attack or run away!” You dodge again and take another step forward, shaking your head “no”. “What are you proving this way?” You won’t fight her. “Fight me or leave!” You stare resolutely at her, shaking your head again. “Stop it,” she says, sending a wave of fire your way. You dodge most of it, but get hit once. “Stop looking at me that way.” She sends fireballs towards you, but so far off to the sides of the room that there’s no way you could get hit. It reminds you of Whimsun.

She’s silent for a long moment, but finally looks at you. “I know you want to see what is out there, but…” You take a step closer. She doesn’t even attempt to throw a fireball this time. “But please, go upstairs. I promise I will take good care of you here. I know we do not have much, but…” She smiles. “We can have a good life here. You’ve enjoyed yourself, haven’t you?” You take another step. “Why are you making this so difficult?” she demands. “Please, go upstairs.” You refuse. She looks around for a moment, then laughs. “Pathetic, is it not?” she asks. “I cannot save even a single child.”

What does she mean by that? You want to ask her, but she takes a deep breath, sighs, and continues. “No, I understand. You would just be unhappy trapped down here. Though you seemed to like it here, the RUINS are very small once you get used to them. It would not be right for you to grow up in a place like this. My expectations… My loneliness… My fear… For you, my child… I will put them aside.”

Your soul returns to your chest, the battle over. She smiles at you, looking sad. “If you truly wish to leave the Ruins, I will not stop you. However, when you leave…” She swallows hard. “Please do not come back. I hope you understand.”

She turns towards you and leans down, arms out as if to hug you, but stops at the last second with a pained expression. In a split second decision, you dart forward and hug her instead. She remains frozen for a moment, but hugs you back. You love your Mom so much.

“Be careful, my child,” she whispers in your ear. “I hope you find peace somewhere.”

Too soon, she pulls away, walking quickly down the hall. She glances back at you for less than a second, then hurries away even faster than before.

You follow her.

You go upstairs, search every room, and even go all the way to the room with only one switch, but you give up. If she’s this difficult to find, it’s the least you can do to let her stay hidden. She told you not to come back for a reason. It hurt her just as much as it hurt you. You never even wanted to leave, but here you are, stuck with the decision you never meant to make. You head back downstairs and, glancing back only once, exit the Ruins.

The hallway stretches on and on, deathly silent. You keep going, because there’s nothing else you can do, really. It gets lighter as you go, and somehow, that’s scarier than darkness. The longer you go, the more terrified you feel. Light, lighter, yet lighter…the light keeps shining…the rays cutting deeper…You blink hard and shake your head. You can’t cry now, you just can’t…You cry anyway, tears spilling down your cheeks. It feel like the long room from before, the one Mom told you to walk alone, except now she won’t be waiting to surprise you at the end.

You reach a doorway, but don’t go through just yet. First, you have to calm down. You close your eyes tightly, count to ten, then wipe your eyes. Hopefully they aren’t any redder than usual. Still a bit scared, you step through the door.

Flowey smiles at you.

You nearly run back, but he speaks, looking irritated. “Clever. Verrrryyy clever. You think you’re really smart, don’t you? So you were able to play by your own rules. You spared the life of a single person.” He grins evilly, and you have the terrible feeling he’s staring into your soul. “Froggit, Whimsun. Vegetoid, Loox. Migosp, Moldsmal. Think about those names.” You think about them. Suddenly, you realize what he means. You…you killed someone. “Do you think any of those monsters have families? Do you think any of them have friends?” His face morphs into a horrible parody of none other than Toriel. “Each one could have been someone else’s Toriel.” His face seems to melt. “Selfish brat. Somebody is dead because of you.” He laughs, then returns to the ground.

You can’t do anything but stare where he used to be, eyes wide in horror, tears leaking out again. You killed someone. That Froggit might have been someone’s brother. You’re a dirty brother killer. You’re a murderer. You never meant to be, but you are. You are a murderer, and nothing, _nothing_ can change that.

Nothing can change that. You repeat this to yourself several times and it seems to ease your worry a bit. Feeling terrible about yourself won’t bring the poor Froggit back to life. Nothing will. You take a deep, shaky breath and wipe your eyes again. You can’t change the past.

(The voices glance at each other in loud, nervous silence.)

With that thought in mind, you take another deep breath, this one slightly less shaky, and finally walk through the next door. Somehow, it feels like whatever journey you’ve started on is only just beginning.

The thought fills you with discomfort.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, I feel like this is a little late? I don't really have a schedule, but this is later than usual, so sorry! This thing isn't over till it's over, so you're stuck with me! :P


	8. Chapter 7

The ground is snowier than you expected, especially knowing you’re under the ground. Then you remember the book you read and realize it must be the snowy place it mentioned. What was it called? Snowtown? Snowville? You remember it was a terribly obvious name, but not much else. You don’t seem to actually be in the town yet, anyway. Before you, there’s nothing but a path and trees. There’s a push beside you, though. You catch a glimpse of a flash of light, and—a camera? Why is there a camera in the bush?

…you want to go home.

You can’t, though. The door is locked, and besides, you wouldn’t go back. Mom told you not to. You can only go forward, and _not_ cry this time, even though the tear tracks still feel cold on your cheeks.

The snow crunches under your feet as you begin your journey. The voices, your “guides,” are silent. Well, not entirely. When you think about them, you can sometimes hear—or maybe feel—what they’re thinking but not “speaking.” They’re wondering about how you’re going to do, and you feel like they’re getting suspiciously specific, but Left snaps at you to get out of their head before you can hear it any better. You think something similar back at them, but you don’t mean it. Even though you like to be alone, it’s nice to have some company.

A loud “CRACK” snaps you from your thoughts. It snaps your head around backwards to look at it, too. A giant branch in the middle of the path sits broken in two. It’s bigger than your stake; you couldn’t have picked it up if it were whole. You look around, panicked, but don’t see anything. Something is following you. Something…invisible? The voices are talking amongst themselves in hushed thoughts and being entirely unhelpful. You walk ahead even faster.

Not long after, you swear you can hear footsteps behind you. When you turn around, you barely glimpse a shadowy figure before it disappears in the shadow of a bare tree. It’s not invisible then, but can turn invisible? Or…teleport? Mom could make fire, it isn’t too much of a stretch. Oh no, now you’re thinking about mom… You hurry.

You reach a bridge, but it’s fenced off. The bars look big enough to fit through, since you’re the dodging master and all. You take a step and—no you don’t. Something behind you takes a step and you can’t move. You’re frozen, by fear or something more nefarious. The something keeps walking, approaching you slowly, ever so slowly, until you can feel it just behind you. You shiver and close your eyes tight, preparing for…whatever’s going to happen. You’re going to die. You are _so_ going to die. But at least you have the cheese to fall back on, and then you can stay with Mom forever and be a good child and never leave. Sounds like a plan. Death sounds lovely right now.

It speaks. “Human.” It’s speaking horrifyingly slowly, making sure you catch every syllable it’s saying. You gulp, trying not to shake. It can probably smell fear. “Don’t you know how to greet a new pal?” No. No, because you’d rather not be pals, actually. “Turn around and shake my hand.”

Almost against your will, you turn slowly. You can’t even get a good look at it with your eyes clouded with fear. It’s holding its hand out, though, you can see that, and it looks basically humanoid. You…really don’t want to touch its hand.

_*You gotta._

No, you don’t, shut up! Still, you obey. Your hand is shaking as you hold it out. The figure reaches to grab it. You close your eyes tight.

The sound of a fart cuts through the woods.

You stare incredulously at your hand, then at the figure, gaping. It’s a skeleton in a hoodie, actually, and it’s laughing in a low, deep voice.

“heheh… the old whoopee cushion in the hand trick. it’s ALWAYS funny.” He pulls his hand away and takes a better look at you. “hey, you ok, kid?”

You nod and swallow. If he’s joking, he probably won’t hurt you…

_*He will not hurt you. He is just a smiley trashbag._

Napstablook’s ability to hear the voices wasn’t confined to the undead, it seemed, because the skeleton continued without acknowledging the comment. “anyways, you’re a human, right? that’s hilarious.” You’re too terrified to feel offended. “i’m sans. sans the skeleton. im actually supposed to be on watch for humans right now.”

You back away.

“woah, chill out, kid. i dont really care about capturing anybody.” You breathe a sigh of relief. “now my brother, papyrus…he’s a human-hunting FANATIC.” You scream internally. What have you gotten yourself into? You want to go back home. “hey, actually, I think that’s him over there.” Your scream slowly becomes external, a hissing teakettle noise. “hey, don’t worry. i have an idea. go through this gate thingy.” You continue to make the teakettle whistle. “yeah, go right through. my bro made the bars too wide to stop anyone.”

You scream semi-externally for a second or two longer, but you compose yourself and step through the gate eventually. Mostly because the skeleton practically pushes you through, causing a louder semi-external shriek. You spot a shack thing ( _*Sentry station._ ) before Sans ushers you towards a lamp. “quick, behind that conveniently-shaped lamp.” You note that the lamp is extremely convenient, being shaped exactly like your body, and hide perfectly behind it.

Suddenly, a significantly taller skeleton walks through. Like, literally twice your height. Sans was barely taller than you, but this skeleton towers over you in full body armor. Well, not exactly full. His spine and arms stick out, and those…shorts? Those shorts don’t cover much at all. Still, he’s intimidating, to say the least.

“sup, bro?”

“YOU KNOW WHAT “SUP,” BROTHER!” Oh god he’s loud. “IT’S BEEN EIGHT DAYS AND YOU STILL HAVEN’T…RECALIBRATED. YOUR. PUZZLES! YOU JUST HANG AROUND OUTSIDE YOUR STATION! WHAT ARE YOU EVEN DOING?!?”

“staring at this lamp. it’s really cool. do you wanna look?” You scream externally, louder than before. That smiley trashbag is giving you away!

“NO!! I DON’T HAVE TIME FOR THAT!!” Thankfully, Papyrus didn’t hear you. “WHAT IF A HUMAN COMES THROUGH HERE!?! I WANT TO BE READY!!! I WILL BE THE ONE! I MUST BE THE ONE! I WILL CAPTURE A HUMAN! THEN, I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS… WILL GET ALL THE THINGS I UTTERLY DESERVE! RESPECT… RECOGNITION…I WILL FINALLY BE ABLE TO JOIN THE ROYAL GUARD! PEOPLE WILL ASK, TO, BE MY, “FRIEND?"” You blink. That’s…kind of sad, actually. Does he not have friends? “I WILL BATHE IN A SHOWER OF KISSES EVERY MORNING.”

“hmm…maybe this lamp will help you.” You immediately stop feeling bad and shriek again.

“SANS!! YOU ARE NOT HELPING!! YOU LAZYBONES!!” You breathe a sigh of relief for Papyrus’s lack of observation skills. “ALL YOU DO IS SIT AND BOONDOGGLE! YOU GET LAZIER AND LAZIER EVERY DAY!!!”

“hey, take it easy. i’ve gotten a ton of work done today. a skele-ton.”

One of the voices laugh so loudly you can feel it bubble in your throat. You can’t stop it. You burst out laughing, loudly and very noticeably. Of course, the taller skeleton turns and stares directly at you. You’ve been found out. Your laughter turns into tears. On no, oh no, oh no…

“uh, i didn’t think it was that funny…”

“SANS!! IS THAT A HUMAN??”

You scream. You cry, and you scream, and you laugh all at once, because even if they’re horrified the voice can’t stop laughing. Wait, no, the first voice, Right, stopped laughing and is now apologizing, but Left is laughing now, just as horrified as Right and you. You’re going to die. This skeleton is going to kill you. He’s going to kill you, or worse, take you to Asgore and have _him_ kill you, and then you’ll be trapped powering a drill or whatever it is that he’s doing with all the humans he’s found.

Suddenly, several things happen at once.

Papyrus starts screaming, too. He’s screaming and looking around, panicked, like he’s afraid he did something wrong. Sans starts sweating, weird eye lights flicking around, and his grin looks progressively faker and faker. A strong gust of wind knocks a lone bottle of ketchup out from behind the sentry station, blowing across the snow like some urban tumbleweed. And throughout all this, you continue screaming and crying, beginning to choke on gales of laughter.

The rolling ketchup is what makes Sans do something other than stare. He stops the bottle with his foot and walks over to his brother. “uh, papyrus, calm down, ok bro? you’re scaring the human.”

Papyrus stops screaming, but you cry harder. It manages to calm your screaming a little, though, but does nothing to calm Left. “OH NO!! I DON’T WANT TO SCARE THEM!!” He looks around. “…ARE THEY OK??”

“hang on.” Sans steps towards you. “it’s ok kid. calm down. we’re not gonna hurt you.” He reaches out a hand towards your shoulder, but you smack it away, still crying but screaming a lot less, and wrap your arms around your knees. “k then. that’s fair.”

“UM…SANS, IS…IS THE HUMAN SUPPOSED TO BE DOING THAT?”

“uh, kinda. they’re not feeling up to being captured right now, though. why don’t you, uh…prepare for when they are?”

He looks at you. “I…UM…I WILL GO…RECALIBRATE MY PUZZLES?? TO…CAPTURE THEM FARTHER ALONG THE LINE, WHEN THEY LEAST EXPECT IT!!” He grins widely (or as wide as he can, being a skeleton) and…laughs? “NYEH HEH HEH!! BUT OF COURSE!! OFF I GO, TO RECALIBRATE MY PUZZLES!! UNLIKE MY LAZYBONES BROTHER SANS, WHO SITS AROUND DOING NOTHING ALL DAY. AND I WILL GO NOW!!” He doesn’t go.

“why don’t you go do that?”

“I WILL!!” He goes.

You’re still crying, though. The laughter has changed into hiccups by now, but you’re still making a sort of teakettle whine. You know you’re not going to die yet, but you’re still scared you will, even if it’s probably stupid. You hate it, you hate it, you hate it! More tears pour down. You don’t know where they’re coming from. Didn’t you _just_ think that you were going to stop crying?

_[I’m really, really sorry!]_

_*You messed it all up, Fr—Right! You could not just leave it to where we knew what would happen. You had to make an anomaly!_

_[I said I’m sorry!]_

_*Sorry does not fix anything! What if we have to reload? They do not even know how to do that yet!_

_[I’m sorry!]_

_*Stop crying!_

Even the voices are arguing, and they booth seem just as terrified as you. You try to ignore them and focus on the skeleton in front of you, but you’re scared of him. You focus on the still-rolling ketchup bottle instead, trying to steady your breath by inhaling or exhaling every time you see the dried ketchup down one side. It’s a little uneven, though.

“hey kid. you’re, uh. kinda having a bad time there, aren’t you? sorry for scaring you a second ago. right now, you probably just wanna figure out how to breathe again, right? wanna do that?”

You stare incredulously up at the skeleton who, just a second ago, was trying with all his might to give you away from behind the lamp. You nod anyway. The voices seem to agree (one begrudgingly, one whole-heartedly) that he’s a nice guy, so you trust them. Slightly less than before, but you still trust them.

“k then. ready? breathe with me. in—” He takes an exaggerated inhale he probably doesn’t need, gesturing with his hands. “—and out.” He does the same on the exhale. He does this a few more times, until your breath is even, if a little shaky from crying. You realize with a start that you’ve stopped crying and wipe off your face with your sleeves. “alright, feeling better?” You take one more deep breath and nod. That was nice. “good, ‘cause my brother’s gonna want to try and capture you.”

You stare at him in horror. You don’t want to be captured!

“hey, hey, don’t worry. he’s not dangerous. even if he tries to be.” You take another deep breath and try to stay calm. “see, like he said, he wants to join the guard. you know, the human hunting brigade. if he captures a human, he’s a shoo in. still…” He closes his eyes and sighs. “it’s not like he’ll do much but put up a few puzzle traps. he doesn’t have the heart to hurt anyone.” He grins wider, or…better? More realistically? Does that make sense? “actually, he doesn’t have the heart for much of anything.”

You giggle in spite of yourself, on your own this time, even if Right giggles right along with you.

“heh. there we go.” He grins truthfully for a second, but it returns to falsehood seconds later. “so, you mind playing along? i’ll make sure you don’t actually get hurt.” You nod. “great.” He stands up. You look around and realize that you had both been on the ground. When did you end up sitting in the snow? “good luck, kid. i’ll be up ahead.” He turns around and heads back where you came from.

You stand up, too. You think you’ve found one friend out here, at least, even if there’s something…unsettling about him. You can’t place it, but the voices, Left in particular, seem to agree. They feel…uneasy about him. Like they know something you don’t, but won’t tell you.

You shake your head and keep going. That’s going to be your new motto. You’re not going to dwell on anything. You’re going to just…progress. Keep going. You’ll be fine. You follow the path the ketchup left in the snow, ready to put it back, but you can’t find it. The trail stops in a pool of red (ketchup, you assure yourself) with nothing at the end. Just a forked road with a box on one side.

Completely ignoring your new motto, you think about…what happened previously, trying to sort out what, exactly, happened. A small, somewhat unsettling skeleton that likes to tell jokes wants you to play along with his brother, a significantly taller but harmless skeleton who wants to join the guard, as he tries in vain to capture you. That…makes zero sense, actually. All this while you hid ineffectively behind a conveniently-shaped lamp. Actually, that’s the weirdest part. How was it that convenient? Was it…planned?

The convenience of that lamp still fills you with discomfort.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look it's a holiday! Merry New Birthtineserweening, readers!  
> Also, here's the Official Discomforttale Blog! http://discomforttale.tumblr.com/  
> Go there if you want to see Chisk art/comics, the chapter basically as soon as it's published (see it immediately at my main http://anotherath-iii-na.tumblr.com/ but that's full of Steven Universe and memes), and maybe drop an in-character ask? I would love to answer in-character asks! Or out of character. Literally any ask is a good ask please talk to me.  
> I usually don't reply to comments because I never know what to say?? Like you guys are great?? And I love you all?? I love short little "I like this please write more" comments, long theorizing comments, and constructive criticism is welcomed and definitely kept in mind as I write! Thank you all for reading!


	9. Chapter 8

You manage to sort your thoughts out enough to keep going. First, you check out that box. The sign says you’re allowed to use it to store stuff, so you open it up. There’s a pink leather glove, well-worn but still strong. You leave it and dump the plastic knife and red ribbon in.

You’re about to keep going, but Right convinces you to go down the other path first, so you comply, following it to a river. You wonder where it goes, but the trees are too thick to look very far down or upstream. You make up a story about how the river probably comes from a waterfall upstream that’s on the surface (and you could follow the river upstream and climb a little mountain up the waterfall and leave—but no, you won’t think that much about it) and reel in the fishing rod sitting on the bank. It has a phone number on it, requesting you call it.

_*…don’t._

…you decide against it.

After awkwardly unreeling the rod (you don’t know how fishing works) and leaving that awkward experience, you keep going. You walk past an uninterestingly-shaped rock (feeling the voices side-eye it nervously) and straight into the skeleton brothers. Oh no. You’re not ready for this. You hide behind the rock (it’s too small, like really small, but you can sort of crouch) and listen in to their conversation. You feel bad for snooping, but you know you don’t have much of a choice if you want to make sure they aren’t planning on killing you when you least expect it!

“DO YOU THINK THE HUMAN IS READY TO BE CAPTURED YET??”

“i dunno, bro. they’ll be ready when they’re ready, y’know?”

“I KNOW! BUT IT’S DISSAPOINTING. AND THEY SEEM SO FAMILIAR!!”

The voices begin to sweat, or at least they would be sweating if voices could sweat. So does Sans, and despite being made (presumably) of bone, he does so literally. “do they now?”

“YES!! DO I KNOW THAT PERSON???”

“do you not know who you know?”

Papyrus looks indignant. “PBPBPPBPT!! OF COURSE I KNOW WHO I KNOW!! I WANTED TO KNOW IF YOU KNOW…I KNOW WHO I KNOW AS MUCH AS I KNOW I KNOW WHO I KNOW!” He pauses for a moment. “…YOU KNOW?”

You giggle a bit in spite of yourself, then freeze, staring in horror as Papyrus’s skull turns to face you. You really need to learn to control your laughter. And the voices’, too. Then, his whole body turns to face Sans. Sans faces Papyrus, then you. Papyrus turns back to you, too, then to Sans. They keep flipping and flopping around, spinning like tops, before finally settling on facing towards you. You shake nervously. Why were they spinning…?

They turn away from you simultaneously, Papyrus whispering loud enough for you to hear. “SANS. IS THE HUMAN HERE BECAUSE THEY ARE READY TO BE CAPTURED, OR ARE THEY HIDING BEHIND THE ROCK AND VIBRATING BECAUSE THEY ARE NOT READY AND I SHOULDN’T TALK TO THEM?”

“i dunno bro. why don’t you ask them?”

“BRILLIANT IDEA!” He turns back to you, speaking louder again. “HELLO HUMAN! ARE YOU READY TO BE CAPTURED?”

You glance at Sans, who is giving you a thumbs up and a lazy smile. Not a real one, you think, but one he really wants to look real. Remembering what he said earlier, you nod jerkily, shaking just a bit. You really, _really_ don’t want to be captured, but you think you’ll trust the voices and Sans.

Papyrus laughs wildly. “NYEHEHEHEHEH!!!!” He coughs, turning to you. “…‘AHEM’ HUMAN! YOU SHALL NOT PASS THIS AREA! I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS, WILL STOP YOU!!! I WILL THEN CAPTURE YOU! YOU WILL BE DELIVERED TO THE CAPITAL! THEN… THEN!!!” He pauses, looking confused. “I’M NOT SURE WHAT’S NEXT.” He clears his throat again (does he have a throat?) and continues. “IN ANY CASE! CONTINUE… ONLY IF YOU DARE!!! NYEH HEH HEH HEH HEH HEH HEH HEH!!!” He runs off.

You walk carefully towards Sans, raising your eyebrows in the (hopefully) universal sign of a question. Is that…normal for Papyrus?

He winks at you. “heh. that went well. told you it’d work out, didn’t i?” You nod. He did. He was right. “don’t sweat it, kid. i’ll keep an eyesocket out for ya.” You eye him questioningly, unsure if that actually counted as a pun since he did, technically, have eyesockets instead of eyes. He winks and walks off, in front of you this time. You watch him this time, but you blink and he disappears.

…oh.                

_[Papyrus is nice, don’t worry!]_

_*Yes, he is far too kind. The world is going to swallow him whole one day. Hurt him and you die._

_[He is a precious cinnamon bunny, too good for this world, too pure!]_

_*What Right said._

_[He won’t hurt you!]_

The voices didn’t seem to notice Sans’ disappearance, then. They seemed to hold a high opinion of Papyrus, though. You acknowledge their comments (not letting yourself feel threatened at the death threat) and keep going. Another sentry station sits on the edge of your path, this one…a bit less pristine.

_*There’s some narration on this cardboard box._

You frown and look closer. Narration? You read it.

“YOU OBSERVE THE WELL-CRAFTED SENTRY STATION. WHO COULD HAVE BUILT THIS, YOU PONDER…I BET IT WAS THAT VERY FAMOUS ROYAL GUARDSMAN!” You smile. That’s cute, even if the taller skeleton is terrifying. “(NOTE: NOT YET A VERY FAMOUS ROYAL GUARDSMAN.)” Oh. That’s a shame. Wait, why is it a shame? Not only does that mean it’ll be less difficult for him to hurt you, but you knew it already! What’s wrong with you?

_[The cinnamon bunny is growing on you.]_

You look around quickly. Where? You don’t see a cinnamon rabbit growing anywhere, especially not on your person!

_*Oh my god._

Oh. That’s right. The cold air is making your face red enough that the blush probably isn’t showing up, but those darn voices can _feel_ your embarrassment. You stick your tongue out at them (sputtering a bit when you accidentally catch a snowflake unexpectedly) and run off.

You spot a sign. “Absolutely NO MOVING!!!” You freeze in place. Uh oh. How do you get past anything without moving? Is this one of those puzzles? Oh no, oh no, oh no…oh no, now you’re shaking, you’re moving! Stop moving! Stop moving!

_*Oh for the love of—here, let me do it._

Oh god you’re moving even more why are you moving! You’re not walking—at least, you’re not trying to? But you’re moving towards another sentry station, vibrating softly towards it.

_[Let them do it!]_

_*They are not_ doing _it, though! I am helping! We are guides, remember?_

The voices are moving you? The voices can make you move? Well, the voices made you laugh, so it makes sense, but that’s actually quite concerning! You dig your heels into the snow, stopping yourself just as you pass the station. You think you made it?

“Did something move?” Oh. Oh no. No, you didn’t. “Was it my imagination? I can only see moving things.” You try your best to stand still, closing up your eyes tight. Then you open them up just a bit so you can see who spoke. It’s…a dog? “If something WAS moving…For example, a human…I’ll make sure it NEVER moves again!”

Oh. There goes your soul, then. You’re doing this, then. This is happening. You’re fighting a dog who can’t see non-moving things while vibrating intensely so there’s no way he’s not going to see you.

_*This is Doggo,_ Left informs you _. *Easily excited by movement._

_[Hobbies include: squirrels.]_ Right chimes in.

You laugh a bit at the squirrel comment and— _oh dear lord that’s a giant glowing sword._ You shriek and try to duck before it hits you, but you trip and fall into the snow face down. Oh no you’re going to die you’re gonna die you’re gonna—

You feel something cold pass through you, but it doesn’t hurt. You glance up to see a very confused dog.

“Moving? It didn’t NOT move! But I didn’t hit it!” He looks around. “I’ll have to hit it again!”

You scramble around, wondering what to do. How can you get away without moving? You freeze for just a second as the sword passes over you, then grab the first thing you can catch and throw it. A distraction!

The first thing you found was your stake. Whoops. But Doggo follows the stake with his eyes, screams “HUH!!! A FUN STICK APPEARS!” and runs after it. He brings it back and drops it a little ways in front of you. Oh. You forgot for a second. He’s a dog. He seems distracted enough that you dare to slowly back up.

“A stick appeared out of nowhere, then disappeared,” Doggo mutters, eyes darting conspiratorially. Your soul returns to where it belongs. “Was it a ghost stick? Did I just return it to the afterlife? I need some dog treats to think about this.” He slinks off to his sentry station.

_*Nice job,_ Left says sarcastically.

_[Nice job!]_ Right says honestly at the same time.

You choose to thank them both as if they were both being truthful and take a closer look at what’s up ahead. Those must be the dog treats. You should give him one. Wait…are they burnt?

_*Someone’s been smoking dog treats._

You…you walk away. Yeah.

“hey, here’s something important to remember.” Wait what? You whip your head around, but it’s just Sans. Good old Sans the skeleton. Okay. “my brother has a very special attack.” Oh no, what does he have? What are you going to have to do now? “if you see a blue attack, don’t move and it won’t hurt you.”

Every single anxious thought you’d been thinking drops from your head as you stop in your tracks to stare at Sans, deadpan. You swear…

“here’s an easy way to keep it in mind. imagine a stop sign. when you see a stop sign, you stop, right? stop signs are red. so imagine a blue stop sign instead. simple, right?”

You scowl and resist the urge to scream at him. “Really simple, but that would have been a lot more useful five minutes ago.”

He grins. “whatever do you mean?”

“Nevermind,” you huff, pouting. That skeleton could sure be annoying. Thinking twice, you mutter “Thanks for the advice.” No reason to be rude. Maybe he didn’t know.

“you’re welcome,” he says. “remember… blue stop signs.”

“Yeah, blue stop signs,” you grumble still, stomping forward through the snow. Suddenly, what you step on isn’t snow. It’s ice. Oh god.

You slide all the way across the frozen patch, pinwheeling your arms and screeching, right into an angry-looking blue bird.

“’ICE’ to meet you!” it nearly yells before you even reach it, yanking your soul out yet again. And you’d just gotten out of battle.

_*Snowdrake. This teen comedian fights to keep a captive audience._

“Ice puns are ‘SNOW’ problem!”

You easily dodge a flurry of crescent things and make a face at the poorly done pun. It isn’t funny. As you dodge the last of the crescents, you decide to tell him that. You decide to tell him he isn’t funny and he never will be. His jokes are pathetic and he should give up right now. The only joke that’s funny is his existence, the fact he thinks he’s funny, that he dares to exist the way he does.

“Everyone’s heard that one,” you say instead, fearful of your own thoughts.

“Yeah? Well you heard this one, too!” You have, actually; the crescents come again. “Fights you in ‘COLD’ blood. Wait a second!” He looks around, stopping the wave. “I—I’m ‘SNOW’drake! That’s my name! Get it? Wow, my parents must have known I was going to grow up to be funny!”

You tell him yes, you get it. You get that this _proves_ his existence is a joke and his parents knew it, too. They knew he would grow up to be nothing but a joke to laugh at, a pathetic, useless excuse for a monster. They hated him enough to turn his life into a joke, so they could make fun of him behind his back. Snowdrake, a big mistake, you wish he’d be killed with a rake. Snow falls, what a ball! It’s a happy day for all. Go die already, you worthless piece of garbage, at least your dust might fertilize something useful—didn’t you hear me? I want you _dead_ , so go kill yourself! You’d be doing us all a favor!

…you didn’t say that.

You force out an entirely false laugh and shoo Snowdrake away with a jerky handwave. He runs off whooping happily, saying his dad was wrong, leaving you to sort out your thoughts. You never thought that. You _wouldn’t_ think that. …would you? You feel as if you’re being judged, but the voices aren’t paying attention. They didn’t hear. Thank god.

You feel unsafe.

The idea that you can’t trust even yourself fills you with discomfort.


	10. Chapter 9

You take a deep, calming breath and one more step, then another. You need to take this, quite literally, one step at a time. You ignore the eastern path and go north, vaguely remembering that a sign you passed said a snow town was forward. You don’t want to go there quite yet. You carefully avoid the ice, hugging the trees (in a metaphorical sense; you don’t thing the bark would be very comfortable to hug, and it would probably snag your sweater) and watching your feet. Maybe you’ll find a nice, relaxing view of the calm river. Maybe you’ll see underground mountains, or those hanging, skinny mountains on the roofs of caves.

_[Stalagmites.]_

_*No. ‘Tites. Stalactites._

_[What’s the difference?]_

_*Stalactites hold tight to the ceiling and stalagmites sag to the ground, or “c” for ceiling and “g” for ground._

_[Oh wow!]_

What an interesting conversation! You couldn’t care less.

You look up from staring at your feet once you’re sure you’re far away from the ice and spot a fairly well-made snowman. You smile. How cute! Just what you needed to cheer you up. You move to take a better look at it.

It speaks.

“Hello.” You freeze where you stand. Then you remember the skeleton and wonder if he’d consider that a pun. Then you remember you are speaking to a _blob of snow with a carrot and some rocks on it_ and feel significantly less amused. “I am a snowman.” _*Way to state the obvious._ You shush the voice; why aren’t they bothered by speaking inanimate objects? “I want to see the world… But I cannot move. If you would be so kind, traveler, please…Take a piece of me and bring it very far away.”

Take a…piece of it? That’s…not a particularly nice thing to think of. The implications of it, anyway. Is it like…taking some hair? Or…a toe? Or like…an organ of some sort? But the snowman looks so hopeful (somehow…without moving its face at all…) that you nod and hold out your hands, resisting the urge to flinch away in expectation of something really cold.

“Thank you!” the snowman says, and a blob of snow falls unceremoniously into your waiting hands. It’s surprisingly…not cold. It’s sort of air temperature, but the air is still cold, so the snow must be slightly warmer than the air by that logic, and that makes no sense. “Good luck!”

You sign a thank-you and walk back south, allowing the snowman piece to disappear into your inventory. You step on a corner of the ice and nearly fall on your face (you manage to land on one knee and mentally congratulate yourself), but you make it back to the eastern path feeling ready to continue.

You feel significantly less ready to continue when you spot the two skeletons.

They don’t seem to notice you, but you can hear them talking a bit. Your curiosity gets the better of you and you creep up carefully, listening in.

_*Eavesdropper._

You tell them to be quiet so you can hear. They laugh at you.

Papyrus is speaking, if you can call it that. He’s screaming, really. “YOU’RE SO LAZY!! YOU WERE NAPPING ALL NIGHT!!” Wait, what? You were almost certain they would be talking about you…

Sans looks amused. Or…more amused than normal? “i think that’s called…sleeping.” You nod in agreement. Sleep is important! …does the tall skeleton not sleep?

“EXCUSES, EXCUSES!” Suddenly, he spots you. “OH-HO! THE HUMAN ARRIVES!”

Sans grins in a way he probably thinks looks encouraging but just makes you more nervous. You try to grin back, waving, but you end up just kind of…baring your teeth.

Papyrus beams. “HELLO, HUMAN!” He coughs and returns to business. “IN ORDER TO STOP YOU…MY BROTHER AND I HAVE CREATED SOME PUZZLES! I THINK YOU WILL FIND THIS ONE…” He pauses for dramatic effect. “QUITE SHOCKING!!! FOR YOU SEE, THIS IS THE INVISIBLE…” Another pause. “ELECTRICITY MAZE!!!”

Oh dear god.

“WHEN YOU TOUCH THE WALLS OF THIS MAZE, THIS ORB WILL ADMINISTER A HEARTY ZAP!”

You are going to die. Not even figuratively or in the social sense. You are going to literally be shocked to death.

“SOUND LIKE FUN???”

You shake your head frantically. He ignores you.

“BECAUSE! THE AMOUNT OF FUN YOU WILL PROBABLY HAVE, IS ACTUALLY RATHER SMALL I THINK.” You nod in morose agreement, staring at the ground. Oh well, existing was fun while it lasted you guess. You’ll see if you can get a last request in and have one of the skeleton brothers slide a note under the door. You need to apologize to Mom for wasting the life she spared you for.

“OK, YOU CAN GO AHEAD NOW.”

You glance around, trying to find your voice and wondering how to word your request. Final requests are more personal if you stand closer, right? You take a few steps.

Papyrus flies in the air, flashing yellow, making zapping noises.

He shakes off a thin, black layer of charred bone and stomps his feet. You cower. What did you do? “SANS!!! WHAT DID YOU DO?!?!”

What did Sans do? What _did_ he do? You think you probably did something, if anyone did.

But Sans takes it in stride. “i think the human has to hold the orb.”

Papyrus accepts it. “OH, OKAY.” He carefully picks his way through the maze, some orb in hand. You stare. His footprints are just…staying. None of the other snow did that. How…convenient. Once again, you feel unsafe.

He finally makes it to you, handing you the orb. “HOLD THIS PLEASE!” You reach for it, but he throws it in the air and lets it land on your head. You jerk away in shock, watching it fall heavily to the ground, leaving a deep hole in the snow. Oh. Okay then.

“HUMAN? ARE YOU ALRIGHT?”

_*Stop staring at the orb and pick it up, idiot._

_[That would probably be a good idea.]_

A half-remembered song of similar disappointment plays in your head. You wish to scream. How could this happen to you? You’ve made your mistakes. You search for a place to run and hide your shame, but find none. The day goes on as you stare blankly at the orb.

Papyrus picks up the orb eventually, but you keep staring at the hole it left. He looks around, then grabs your hands and places the orb in them. You stare at the orb, then look up at him.

“OKAY, TRY NOW!”

You tear your gaze from the orb and step forward. The path is marked out by his footprints, but you traverse it carefully all the same. Eventually, you reach the other side.

“INCREDIBLE!! YOU SLIPPERY SNAIL!! YOU SOLVED IT SO EASILY…” He narrows his eyes…eye sockets…? At you. “TOO EASILY!” Oh no. You hope he doesn’t realize, but how could he not? But he brightens a moment later, grinning from…lack of ear to lack of ear. “HOWEVER!! THE NEXT PUZZLE WILL NOT BE EASY! IT IS DESIGNED BY MY BROTHER, SANS! YOU WILL SURELY BE CONFOUNDED! I KNOW I AM!” He laughs loudly, walking backwards up ahead. “NYEH HEH HEH HEH HEH!!”

That leaves you with Sans. The atmosphere seems to drop in intensity. You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you had been holding and cover your face with your hands. Being around that tall skeleton is perhaps the most stressful thing you’ve had to deal with, and that includes literally dying.

“heh.”

You jump, dropping the orb you were still holding. You fumble with it for a second before it finally drops into the snow. You let out a whining sigh, staring at it.

_*Oh no, we are_ not _doing this again._

_[Sans is still there, you know.]_

You look up quickly. Had you forgotten he was there again? He kind of does that, you guess. He’s quiet, and the blue on his jacket and white of his shirt sort of blend in with the snowy landscape. You walk up to him, signing an apology for forgetting him without expecting he’d understand.

“no problem, kid.” He gestures to your hands. “where’d you learn that, anyway?”

You shrug. Then you try to explain. “I don’t…I never…I always…”

He nods, cutting you off. “i get it.” He changes the subject. “anyway, thanks for playing along. my brother seems like he’s having fun. By the way, did you see that outfit he’s wearing?”

You shrink in on yourself, rounding your shoulders and ducking your head. Yeah. You noticed. It’s terrifying. It’s battle armor!

“we made that a few weeks ago for a costume party.” Wait, what? “he hasn’t worn anything else since…keeps calling it his “battle body."”

You snort. Wow. What a dork. A terrifying dork, but a dork all the same.

“man. isn’t my brother cool?”

You grin and nod. Then you remember who you’re talking about and stop.

“see? nothing to worry about. my bro couldn’t hurt a fly, not really.”

You nod and grin in a manner you hope looks reassuring, but again, you feel like you’re probably just baring your teeth. You sign a thank-you and pick up the orb, moving to hand it to Sans, but he makes an indescribable face that makes you stop. You look at it closer instead. It’s a shiny sort of silver-blue that makes it look icy and very, very smooth. You pocket it, bypassing your inventory, and run off, waving. Better keep going, right? Besides, the more Sans tries to convince you his brother is harmless, the less you really believe him. The more suspicious you feel.

_*For good reason._

_[Don’t tell them that!]_

Tell you what? But the voices clam up and pointedly ignore you. Feeling defiant, you resolve to ignore them back.

You overhear someone talking. “I don’t understand why these aren’t selling…It’s the perfect weather for something cold…”

You turn around to see a rather depressed-looking blue rabbit man leaning on a cart, wearing deceptively cheerful colors. You feel bad for him for a minute, but then his words register. It’s a little cold for anything cold, isn’t it?  Well, most people would think so. You don’t mind. You could probably buy some. That is, if it’s not too expensive. Then again, you got a good bit of gold from those snowy monsters…

You walk forward. The bunny man opens an eye, then both of them, looking overjoyed. “OH!!! A CUSTOMER!!!” You flinch at the noise. “Sorry, pal, didn’t mean to scare you.” You smile awkwardly and nod, a little embarrassed. “Would you like to buy some Nice Cream? It’s the frozen treat that warms your heart! Now just 15G!”

Nice Cream? That sounds so…nice! You hand over the gold and nod.

“Here you go! Have a super-duper day!”

You thank him with a grin, then realize with a start how exhausted you feel. You got hurt in a few of those fights. Snowdrake must have gotten you while you were…distracted.

_[Eat a Nice Cream! Those help!]_

You unwrap it and take a bite. You love it! Your teeth protest the cold, but you ignore them and enjoy the ice—Nice Cream. You finish it, but then whip your head around. What do you do with the wrapper? You glance at it in despair. Wait, what’s written on it? “Love yourself! I love you!” You stare at it for a moment, then another. Then you feel eyes start to leak. Oh. Oh no.

“Hey?” It’s the nice Nice Cream Guy. “Are you okay?”

You smile and wipe your eyes with your sleeve, folding the wrapper carefully and putting it in your pocket. You’re far better than okay. You love it. “Can I buy another? Please?”

He smiles. “Of course! But since you’re buying two, you get the, uh…” He looks around. “Buy one, get one for 10G discount! How about it?”

_[What discount?]_

_*Shut up._

You hand him 10G and put another 5G on the cart while he’s looking away. Then, thinking twice, you hand him another 15G. “I want two, please.”

“Sure thing! Have a super-duper day!” He winks at you. “I said it twice, so your day should be twice as super now!”

You thank him much more profusely than one would usually thank someone for selling them something and skip away happily. He’s such a nice guy. It’s too bad he’ll never get a customer because everyone hates his guts for being so happy-go-lucky while everyone is suffering.

Wait, what?

The realization that this new nagging voice is probably right, even if it’s for the wrong reasons, fills you with discomfort.


	11. Chapter 10

You distract yourself and kill a bit of time kicking around a giant snowball. It’s actually really fun! It makes a sort of snow-crunch noise as it rolls. You’re trying to figure out why it doesn’t melt all the time. Does it only melt when you’re touching it? No, that’s not it. Only when it’s rolling? Only when it’s not? What if you flatten one side and slide it? At least, that’s what you’re telling yourself so you don’t feel silly about rolling a snowball around by yourself like a loser. Actually, you’re mostly nudging it around in weird patterns until it melts, then waiting for the new one to fall down from who-knows-where. You decide not to wonder where it keeps coming from.

Suddenly, you trip over something tiny and flail around, kicking the almost entirely unmelted snowball above the lip of the rink. You shriek belatedly, after you’ve already almost righted yourself. It rolls across a small bank of snow, between a snowball and a pine tree, and curves into a hole you hadn’t noticed before.

Well, “into” is a relative term. The ball had collected so much snow it didn’t fit through and just kind of stayed there. You walk towards it curiously. Then immediately stop to stare in horror as something begins to poke dangerously through the ball’s icy surface. Oh god what is it. It’s another monster coming to attack you isn’t it. Oh god you can’t move what is it. It’s red and sharp and—it’s a flag. Oh.

It has writing on it, though. The letters are kind of small. You squint. “Try as you might, you continue to be yourself.” Looking closer, you notice some gold bubbling through the melting snow boulder around the flagpole. You collect 10 before it drops through.

_*Good job,_ Left thinks sarcastically. You stick your tongue out at them—or, well, the air, really.

“heh.”

You whip your head around. When did the smiley trashbag get there? And when did you start calling him the smiley trashbag like Left liked to? And did he notice you stick your tongue out at nothing? You hope he thinks you were trying to catch a snowflake.

“H-hi,” you squeak, adding a little jerky handwave to look more casual. You don’t think you look casual.

“hey yourself. you know, i’ve been thinking of selling some treats too. since you like snow so much, it gave me some inspiration.” Oh, is he going to sell snowcones? “want some fried snow? only 5G.”

You stare at him for a minute, but nod and reach for some coins. 5G isn’t much, and you don’t want to hurt his feelings.

“did i say 5G? i meant 50G.”

You ponder for a second, but eventually smile and shrug apologetically, shaking your head a begrudging no. You feel bad, but you really should save up.

He doesn’t seem upset, thankfully. “eh, you’re right. i should charge way more than that.”

You smile and walk off, but stop in your tracks near that tree you nearly rammed a snowball into, feeling a donning realization. You feel the gears turn slowly in your head. Fried snow. Fried equals heat. Heat plus snow equals water. Okay then.

You shake your head to clear away that whole situation (and the voice’s teasing remarks) before continuing on.

Oh god it’s the skeletons.

…wait, how did Sans get here so fast? …you decide not to question it.

You just walk right up this time. No point trying to delay the inevitable.

_[The cinnamon bunny is growing on you!]_

You don’t grace that with a reply, but your cheeks turn red. Not at a reminder of anything! It’s just…cold. Yes.

“HUMAN!!! I HOPE YOU’RE READY FOR…” Papyrus looks around, then at the ground, where a lone piece of paper sits. What is it doing there? “SANS!! WHERE’S THE PUZZLE!!!”

Sans chuckles. “it’s right there. on the ground.” Papyrus makes an…indescribable face. Looks like rage, or perhaps amusement. He looks…fed up. That’s a good word. Phrase. Whatever. “trust me. there’s no way they can get past this one.”

You look at them nervously. What is it? A curse? There’s magic here, right? Ms. Mom could make fire. Is the piece of paper going to spontaneously combust in your hand? But…you pick it up anyway. Sans promised…

It’s…a word search? You look up at Sans, who’s grinning a bit wider than usual. Is this…a joke? The voices chuckle at you. Is there some joke you’re not getting? Are they all making fun of you? Still, you search your pockets for a pen or pencil, but all you find is rocks. One long thin one fooled you for a minute, but…no. You gently place the word search back on the ground and walk towards the skeletons, shrugging.

Papyrus looks furious. Or…just annoyed? His expressions are so extreme, it’s really hard to tell. “SANS!!! THAT DID NOTHING!!!”

Sans shrugs. He’s equally hard to read. He doesn’t react much. “whoops. i knew i should have used today’s crossword instead.”

“WHAT!? CROSSWORD!?” He looks scandalized. “I CAN’T BELIEVE YOU SAID THAT!! IN MY OPINION…JUNIOR JUMBLE IS EASILY THE HARDEST.”

You stare at them. Are they really arguing over puzzle games?

_*Yes. That is what they do. They’re absolutely ridiculous._

_[You have a soft spot for Papyrus, though. The cinnamon bunny has already grown on you!]_

You tell the voices to shush. You missed something the skeletons said, and now they’re looking at you funny. Expectantly. Did they ask you a question? How are you supposed to answer? You can’t ask them what they said, you don’t even know who said it! You can’t let them know you didn’t hear! That’s rude! But you’re just standing here, staring, opening and closing your mouth like a fish. You wouldn’t be able to talk even if you knew what to say. Oh god what’s going on, what are you supposed to do, oh god…

“HUMAN, I UNDERSTAND THIS IS A DIFFICULT CHOICE!” Papyrus remarks, gesturing grandly. “I WOULD TRY TO ASSIST IN YOUR DECISION MAKING, SINCE MY OPTION IS MOST CERTAINLY THE CORRECT CHOICE, BUT YOU ALREADY KNOW MY STANCE, SO THAT WOULD BE INEFFECTIVE.”

Wow, thanks Papyrus! That’s helpful! You know exactly what to say now! No, you don’t. You shrink into the snow. Can you make a run for it? Is that a thing you could do? No, Papyrus’s legs are too long, he’d catch you, and he’d probably be mad. You hold onto a pocket rock for moral support, but no, it’s the orb. …you could throw it as a distraction. No, that’s a bad idea. You need to think of something to say.

The skeleton brothers looks uncomfortable. “…WELL,” Papyrus says after a long moment, “PERHAPS YOU CAN DECIDE LATER? ONCE WE HAVE BETTER MADE OUR CASES!! YOU CAN GIVE ME YOUR ANSWER AT THE NEXT PUZZLE!!”

You nod enthusiastically, and off he runs. Normally this time. You just…fall into the snow. You need to learn to ignore the voices and pay attention to important things. Like Sans being here. You don’t let yourself forget he’s still here this time, but somehow, being around him is a lot less…demanding. It’s calmer. He radiates “chill” and not just because of the pun. You don’t feel drained just being in his presence. Talking to him, maybe, but…no. You’re alright. You’re fine.

…he’s still terrifying.

You sit up and walk up to him after a minute anyway, feeling like it’s necessary to talk to him. Like, some unspoken rule. Is that was social norms are?

“hey. thanks for not taking sides like that. it was cool of you to try to appease my brother and stay honest, because we both know crosswords are harder.” He leers at you, eyes glinting. “…right?”

For a moment, your fear is halted by a momentary clairvoyance of the ridiculousness of the situation. They were arguing about games. They wanted you to settle a dispute about games. Sans is threatening you because you didn’t agree his game was harder.

And, just as soon as it came, the clairvoyance leaves, replaced by pure, unadulterated discomfort. Oh god. You’re being threatened by the small chill skeleton because of games. What is the tall excitable skeleton going to do to you?

You snap from your frozen shock and nod quickly, putting self-preservation above honesty. You actually have no idea what you think is harder. They both seem pretty simple. You had found all the words but one by the time you put it down.

His face returns to normal, and the atmosphere noticeably lightens. “yeah, yesterday my brother got stumped trying to “solve” the horoscope.” He grins. “papyrus…finds difficulty in interesting places.”

You try to grin but flee as fast as you can, not worrying about propriety for once. Okay, wow. No. You’re…not going to deal with that. You spot some spaghetti on a table with a microwave and stare at it oddly for a second, but you keep going. You want as much space between you and Sans as possible for now.

_[He really isn’t that scary.]_

_*Speak for yourself for once._

_[Sarcasm isn’t funny, Left.]_

_*You are not funny._

_[Be nice!]_

You keep running, but you pass a sign. You thought you caught a glimpse of the words. “Warning: Dog Marriage?” You begin to backtrack, but Left stops you.

_*Yes, you read that correctly._

Oh. O…kay…?

You walk into another dog. Oh god.

_*Lesser Dog. Wields a stone dogger made of pomer-granite._

Shut up Left.

_*Sans would think it’s humerus._

The battle passes quickly, once you realize that he’s literally just a huge dog. You throw it your stake and pet it a few times, but its neck starts to stretch oddly and you don’t want to hurt it (all that stretching can’t be healthy), so you run off.

And right into two more dogs.

The dogs are kissing.

Oh.

“What’s that smell?” asks one.

“Where’s that smell?” the other echoes.

“If you’re a smell…”

“Identify yoursmellf!”

They circle you for a bit and you freeze, hoping they only see moving things, too.

_*The Dogi, Dogamy and Dogaressa. A loving couple. Only know what they smell._

Your soul sits in front of you, but the Dogi don’t attack. They tilt their heads to the side, looking puzzled by something, sniffing the air. Then, they sniff towards you. You freeze. Then shake. Oh no. What’s going on?

“Hmmm…here’s that weird smell…”

“Smells like…a little puppy?”

“A weird puppy…”

“An awkward puppy! A little puppy just learning to walk.”

You watch your soul return to your body just as it tried to exit, the battle over before it truly began.

“Sorry puppy! We didn’t mean to scare you.”

“Do you need help finding your mama?”

You shake your head, then remember what Left said. “No, thanks you,” you say. The dogs wave at you and make a quick exit, going off to do…dog things, you guess. You keep going.

_*“Thanks you.”_

…shut up.

The next few areas pass in a blur of poorly-executed puzzles, the occasional difficult one, various battles, and rushed, rather one-sided conversations with the skeleton brothers. The only one that really stood out was the tile puzzle. It seemed ridiculously convoluted, enough that you thought you might wind up in big trouble, but against all likelihood, luck smiled on you and gave you the simplest map possible. Even Right seemed to think it was too good to be true, with the way they began whispering nervously with Left.

Finally, you stop to rest near a sentry station surrounded by half-formed snow sculptures. They look like…long dogs? Sort of? Oh yeah, there’s a really long noodle…neck…and beside it, a fairly detailed face. They remind you of…Lesser Dog…oh. Did you cause this?

A deer-like creature notices you staring. “A dog just rushed in here, filled with inspiration,” it informs you. “It kept trying to build a snowdog that expressed its own emotions…But, as it built, it kept getting more excited about the sculpture…Its neck got longer and longer, and it added more and more snow, until…” It gestures to the decapitated sculpture. “It was rather sad to watch, but I couldn’t turn away.”

Guiltily, you grin and run off again. Yes, you did cause this. Poor decapitated snowdogs. You hope Lesser Dog manages to make a good snowdog. Eventually.

You run into your next puzzle, another x’s-and-o’s one. This one is on ice. The other one was hard enough, why add ice? But it’s the only way forward. Holding your breath in anticipation, you place one foot carefully on the edge before putting your weight on it. Okay. You’re fine. You breathe. You take your other foot and do the same, and slide diagonally directly over the ledge you didn’t notice before.

You scream.

You scream all the way down, and suddenly you know that’s exactly what you did when you fell Underground. You screamed and screamed until your back hit the ground and the wind got knocked out of you and you landed, gasping, on a bed of wilted yellow-gray flowers that didn’t have a face and in front of one who did. Except you didn’t. You fell on well-kept flowers, bright and golden and as alive as anything you’ve seen, and you hadn’t met anyone until you walked to the next room. The memory is wrong, but it feels more real than either you’ve had up until now.

You land safely on your butt in a thick layer of snow, right beside a tall structure made of the same. You file the memory away to dissect later, far away from Left and Right’s reach. You have an agreement by now, albeit an unspoken one. You each have your own little corner the others don’t pry at, and that’s where they each sit now. They didn’t want to deal with your screaming, you guess.

You stand and examine the snow sculpture and realize with a start it’s Papyrus. It’s surprisingly well-made, though inaccurate. You still admire the detailed biceps, made with tightly packed snow and held together by ice, wondering how this can be the same skeleton who built the cardboard sentry station and two-x puzzle. You give up on that train of thought and look for an exit, but stumble on another snow sculpture.

You nearly step on it. It’s hard not to, really. It looks so much like the rest of the snow, just a mound written on in marker. “Sans.” He made that one, then. You start to laugh at his laziness, but stop. Sans would do anything for his brother. You that know from just the few conversations you’ve had with him, not to mention the little tidbits Left and Right let slip. The “snow sculpture” might have just been a joke, but you’re sure Sans would build a snow castle if it would make his brother happy. If he was able to put in the effort, that is.

Or maybe you’re just thinking too hard on this.

Still, the idea that this funny little skeleton might have something in common with you fills you with discomfort.


	12. Chapter 11

You find the path back up to the puzzle, still thinking about Sans. It takes you a few tries…okay a lot of tries…but you manage to complete it soon enough, and there you are, sliding through dark trees and backpedaling in fear. At some point, you feel a clump of snow fall on your head, but you’re too afraid of what you might run into to wipe it off. You finally do make it to the end of the ice, without running into another comedian bird, and wipe off your snow hat.

_[Heehee!]_

What?

_[House!]_

Where’s the house? You don’t see any house. Right refuses to elaborate, though, so you chalk it up to voice weirdness. You shake off the last bits of frost still clinging to your shoulders, glance to the side path, and immediately decide to just go forward. You spot a bunch of snow piles and a dog house. It looks a lot more inviting. You inspect the first snow pile.

_*It’s a snow poff._

That’s a cute name. You like that, the word “poff.” It sounds so…puffy. And magical. You look at the next one.

_*And this… Is a snow poff._

Another snow poff!

_*This, however, is a snow poff._

You keep looking, listening to Left’s progressively more annoyed commentary (and Right’s giggles) and finally reach the last one.

_*Eh? There’s 30 G inside this…_

Wait, what? You feel around and, somehow, find 30 little gold coins.

_*What is this?_

You agree. You spot another snow poff in front of the next path. Maybe there’s more money? But once you get within a few feet, about one meter, a dog pokes first its tail, then its head out. Oh, it’s so fluffy and cute! Its little tongue darts out as it lets out a little “arf!” You lean forward to pet it, but suddenly…

Oh god.

You stare in horror at the hulking mass of fur in front of you. It’s the size of Papyrus, probably taller, and much, much bulkier. It looks like it could suplex a boulder, then wag its tail and request pets and a treat for a reward. You simultaneously want to cower and scratch its metal-covered belly. You feel death approaching, and the grim reaper is a Pomeranian.

_*It’s the greater dog._ You snap out of your fearful trance just long enough to notice your soul floating ahead of you and a puppy’s face staring excitably at you from a spear. _*It’s so excited that it thinks fighting is just play._ That means you’re in even more danger. It won’t know when to quit.

The dog barks, and you feel shockwaves from the noise hit you like a slap to the face. You don’t know how to dodge. You can’t hear the direction well enough. What do you do? The dodging master can only do so much when they can’t see the projectiles!

_[Let me, next time.]_ The barking stops and the dog tilts its head expectantly. _[And pet it now.]_

You don’t think you trust the voices all that much, but you decide to do what Right says anyway. You reach forward, but you’re too far away. You take a few steps, but somehow, you can’t get close enough. Something is stopping you from walking as far as you’re like. You don’t know what to do.

_*Greater Dog is too far away to pet. You just pet the air._

_[Will you stop narrating and actually be helpful?]_

_*Hmm…no._

The dog starts barking again, hitting your arm hard. You flail around, listening as hard as you can, but it’s no use. Right is yelling at you and so is Left, for completely different reasons. You’re so confused, and you feel so sore all over, and you don’t want to do this anymore.

So you don’t.

It’s a liberating feeling, really. You don’t feel like yourself, but at the same time, you’re more yourself than ever before. You’re staring over your own right shoulder as your body expertly dodges sounds you can only hear as an echo. It’s nice. You don’t have to worry anymore.

_*So you finally let us help?_

You turn towards Left, except you simply direct your attention towards them. You don’t have a head. Still, when they have your attention, you feel as if you can see them, even though they aren’t there. You can tell they’re rough and jagged, all hard shell over a pathetic, soft core. Something bristly. They’re a hedgehog, you think too loudly, because then you realize this whole time you had been speaking directly to Left.

_*Nice to see you too, Chisk. If we are calling each other animals now, I petition you to be a guinea pig. Jumpy and easily distracted. Sounds like you, does it not?_

You acknowledge your new title with a not-nod and watch your body playing fetch with the dog with snowballs. Suddenly you realize that Right isn’t here. What happened to them?

_*Right is using your body, smart one._

How are they doing that? But you aren’t too concerned. You can take the metaphorical backseat for a while. It won’t hurt anything, and you could use the break.

Then, you watch the fluffy white thing lean into the body you should be in, laying hard on the lap. The body’s movements become sluggish. It can’t move enough with the creature’s weight on it. It takes you a moment, but you finally realize that it’s your body and it’s probably being injured. And you can’t have that. That’s yours.

You look out of your own eyes, staring a slobbery maw in the face, arms wrapping lovingly around the scruff of its furry neck. You flinch away with your whole body, flinging something wildly into the air. Your stake, ejected from your inventory. It goes flying, the Greater Dog chasing after it, giving you time to breathe.

For a minute there, you weren’t you. Right was you, and you were Right, except everything was wrong and nothing felt right. All you know is that you weren’t right. You were wrong, very wrong, to let Right take control. It was relaxing at the time, but now all you feel is anger at Right for even suggesting that. Something tells you they were just trying to help, but you squash the though and hang on to your rage. How could they?

_[I’m sorry]_ they say, but you snap at them, demanding silence. How _dare_ they?

The Greater Dog tilts its head at you. Then, its head falls from its armor. You screech, but stop once you see the little legs. It’s as tiny as you thought it was before. The little puppy licks your nose and jumps into its suit head first, tail wagging where its head should be.

You laugh.

Your anger melts away as you see the ridiculousness of this, too. You laugh until tears prick at your eyes, until you’re on the ground in the snow, and still you laugh. It’s hysteric, you know, but that doesn’t matter because you’re not mad anymore. You can’t be. You were just scared. Right didn’t know any better, didn’t know how badly you’d react. You compose yourself and wipe your eyes, apologizing.

_[No,_ I’m _sorry. I shouldn’t have—]_ But you interrupt to tell them it’s fine. Just never do it again. Ever.

A moment of awkward silence passes, your mind feeling foggy without the usually constant chatter. Or maybe you’re still reeling from that switch. You stand up and walk back the way you came, wanting to check out the other path before that rickety bridge you spotted up ahead.

_*I say Right is a dog._

Right’s confusion sends you right back into a fit of hysterics for a completely different reason, simply for the hilarity. You agree through your laughing gasps, confusing Right further. Yeah. Right’s a dog. Left’s a dog. You’re a dog. Everything is a dog, even the cliff face. It’s made of pomer-granite, just like Lesser Dog’s dogger. Papyrus is a dog, Ms. Mom is a dog, the king who wants to kill you is a dog, Sans is a dog—Sans is right in front of you.

“hey.” You screech for the second time in five minutes, falling on your face in the snow. He saw you laughing at yourself, he must think you’re insane!

_*He is not supposed to be here still!_

You’re too freaked out to question it.

“what’s up?”

You sit up, struggling to come up with a reply, and finally settle on a little wave. You really hope he thinks you, you don’t know, ran into Snowdrake recently? He doesn’t look at you oddly, so you guess he does. You keep walking.

You run into Sans again. “say…are you following me?” You shake your head “no,” glancing behind you. How did he…? You…decide not to question it. It’s probably better for your sanity. Still, the smiley trashbag—no, Sans still makes you feel uneasy, even after your discovery.

You run into a creepy deer ( _*Gyftrot_ ) just seconds later, one who throws gift boxes and snowflakes at you until you battle through the barrage and manage to yank off the objects decorating it, and Sans simply watches. He stares at you with those glowing dots in his eyesockets, judging your every move. You apologize on behalf of whoever did this to them and give them some gold, waving them off with a smile. They were just angry. They wanted someone to take it out on, and who better than the dodging master? You’re taking these fights a lot better now, you think.

Feeling proud of yourself, you turn to Sans, hoping for some sort of approval. A thumbs up, a “good job, kiddo,” a nod, or even just a wider smile that usual. Instead, all you get is a lazy grin, with eyelids lowered. The same as always.

“heh. yeah, you’re following me, aren’t you?”

Just a little hurt, you turn away without a response. You thought he wasn’t helping because he trusted you to take care of yourself. Now, you dare to think he hoped you couldn’t. But no. No, he helped you before, right? He would want you to be hurt now.

_[Don’t take it personally. He’s too lazy to do much to help anyone.]_

He could have at least said something.

You keep going, finally forcing yourself to go forward. You pass the snow poffs and look at the path ahead of you. Over the rickety bridge. Oh god.

You go back for supplies instead.

_*Oh, come on!_

You’re never going to cross that bridge again, you reason. You refuse. So you’ll buy more Nice Cream and _then_ you’ll go over the bridge, you promise! There’s no such thing as being too prepared!

You sprint through snowbanks and slide across icy fields, a single goal in mind. That goal was Nice Cream. You really like Nice Cream. Then, all at once, you sprint directly into three monsters.

You recognize Icecap and Snowdrake, but there’s once you don’t remember.

Left sighs in annoyance. _*Jerry._

Even Right seems annoyed. _[He makes attacks last even longer.]_

The monsters begin their attack (side-eying Jerry every once in a while), and sure enough, Jerry sits back, fiddling with a phone. “The wifi here sucks.”

You laugh at Snowdrake’s joke (which you didn’t even bother to hear) and ignore Icecap’s hat, watching in disgust as Jerry licks cheese dust obnoxiously from his fingers. You can’t look away.

Soon enough the others are gone, slinking away in annoyance or jabbering happily, and you’re left with Jerry. He’s not attacking, you note. He’s just…there. Talking. Complaining. Sneezing without covering his nose. Informing you that he needs to go to the bathroom. Asking to be driven home. Not leaving. How do you get rid of him?

_*Just ditch him._

No. There has to be some way. There must be some way, like the others. All the other monsters were like puzzles, and all you needed to do was do the right thing and make them go away, usually happier than they were before. There has to be some way to make him go away on his own. Right?

But there he sits, yawning loudly, complaining about the cold, unable to be appeased.

And you snap.

You yank out your stake and he doesn’t even blink. You stab him and he sighs in boredom. He doesn’t react. Why won’t he _do anything?_ You stab and swipe over and over, staring at his dull, beady, too-wide eyes, daring him to fight back, and he won’t. He can’t do a thing on his own and that’s hilarious, since no one wants to even be near him. You stab again and again, and finally, finally, he looks up at you.

“So, like, what are you even doing?”

You stop.

You drop your stake.

You ditch him.

_*Finally_ , Left says, as if you hadn’t nearly killed something else. _*I thought we’d never get rid of him._

_[Don’t worry,]_ Right whispers to you while Left rants, _[I’d probably do that too. But maybe don’t next time? If you can avoid it? But hopefully you won’t have to fight Jerry again! Jerry’s the worst.]_

You mentally joke along with them, since you’re sure it’s fine if even Right thinks so, but you’re a little scared of yourself. You’ll have to keep more in control. But why was the feeling of sinking your stake into a monster’s smug little face so satisfying? Suddenly, you feel a sense of pompous contentment from a new section of your thoughts, and with a start, you realize it’s a section you thought was your own. It’s the same section the little voice came from, the one that you had always thought, deep down, was at least somewhat right.

You shove your hands into your pockets and feel around for a rock, searching for the flat, grey, banded one you can recognize by texture alone. Instead, you find gold, from the fight. 64G, you’re sure, somehow. You take a deep breath and let it out slowly.

The feeling that you don’t have anyone else to blame this time fills you with discomfort.


	13. Chapter 12

You make it back to the Nice Cream cart otherwise uneventfully. You’re glad for that, at least; the monsters seem to detect your mood and avoid you. Except the Nice Cream Guy. He greets you with a bright smile and a “how’s my favorite customer today?” before whispering not to tell his other customers he said that. You grin and say “good” even if you aren’t really, and you think he understands. He gives you another discount which you ignore again, wondering how he could afford to keep his stand open that way. You figure everyone else must ignore the discount like you.

You chat together for a bit, or rather he chatters animatedly and you nod to show you’re listening, throwing in an “uh-huh” every once in a while. He’s nice to talk with, even if you don’t do much talking. Your excuse is the Nice Cream you’re eating slowly to heal up from the last fight, even if you only got hit twice. You really, really like Nice Cream.

You finish the las bit and check the wrapper to find an illustration of a hug. You smile.

“I’m thinking of moving business, actually,” he says. “I might head off farther into the cavern, towards Waterfall. I might get more customers. What do you think?”

You nod, then realize that’s not much of an answer. “That’s where I’m heading, I think,” you say, “so…I think you should.” You pause. “I-if you want to.”

He beams. “Wow, that’s great! Looks like I’ll always have at least one good customer, huh?”

You nod enthusiastically.

You have to get going, though. You tell him that, wave goodbye, and sign a thank-you and a see-you-later. He speaks the same thing back, and off you go.

You make it to the snow poff are without much incident, pointedly avoiding the cliff face you saw Sans near. You pass the snow poff Greater Dog had jumped from and stare ahead, jaw set in anticipation. You’re going to do this. You can definitely do this.

_*…are you planning on walking any time soon?_

You’re going, you’re going! You swallow and clench your fist around a smooth, cylindrical rock from your pocket. You…are going. You put the rock back and grip the rope supports tightly with both hands, feeling the rope burn your palms. You step onto the first plank, swallow again, and keep stepping. You don’t dare look down, just straight ahead. You can do this.

You don’t know how far you’ve walked when you see them, the skeleton brothers. They’re ahead of you, blocking the exit of the bridge. Nervously, you glance behind you; you’re over the halfway mark. You’re not going to do that again, and besides, the skeletons haven’t hurt you yet, have they? You take a deep breath and one more step.

Papyrus spots you. “HUMAN!” he screams across the canyon, “THIS IS YOUR FINAL AND MOST DANGEROUS CHALLENGE!” He looks determined. “BEHOLD! THE GAUNTLET OF DEADLY TERROR!”

From above and below, various deadly contraptions came into view. A spiked mace, a flame thrower, two spears, a cannon, and…a dog? It swings around and pants at you. You choose to ignore it for now, because this isn’t a puzzle. This is madness. This is life or death, this is going to kill you, and Sans is just standing there like this is nothing. What happened to keeping you safe?

Papyrus is still talking. “WHEN I SAY THE WORD, IT WILL FULLY ACTIVATE!!! CANNONS WILL FIRE! SPIKES WILL SWING! BLADES WILL SLICE! EACH PART WILL SWING VIOLENTLY UP AND DOWN! ONLY THE TINIEST CHANCE OF VICTORY WILL REMAIN!!!” You catch the glint of a spear in the corner of your eye, and you’re sure it swung at you. Oh god. Oh no. “ARE YOU READY!?”

You shake your head violently, but you realize he probably can’t tell, because all of you is shaking. You try to take a step back, but something is holding you in place. You grip the ropes tighter. The ropes shake with you.

“I! AM! ABOUT! TO DO IT!” He looks hesitant, though. Maybe…? But no. You don’t dare hope.

There’s a lengthy silence. The anticipation is killing you. You take a shaky breath, watching them both.

“well?” Sans asks, “what’s the holdup?”

That’s what does it, in the end. Not the bridge, not Papyrus, not the even the Gauntlet. Just Sans’ comment is what got you sobbing like a baby. You felt justified, though. He promised to protect you, but here he is, impatient for your demise. You cough and choke from your tears, but they don’t stop. You won’t even die with dignity.

“H…HOLDUP?” Papyrus asks, flicking his eyes around nervously, “W-WHAT HOLDUP? I’M… I’M ABOUT TO ACTIVATE IT NOW!” He looks at you. “AH, HUMAN? WOULD YOU PLEASE STOP LEAKING LIKE THAT? IT’S VERY DIFFICULT TO CONCENTRATE ON ACTIVATING MY GAUNTLET OF DEADLY TERROR WITH YOU MAKING THOSE LEAKING NOISES.”

You sniff, but you can’t stop. Why would you stop for him, anyway? He’s trying to kill you!

“just ignore them, bro. go on.”

“ALRIGHT!! I AM!! I AM IN THE PROCESS OF ACTIVATING IT AT THIS VERY MOMENT!!”

There’s another lengthy silence, broken only by your irregular sobs. You can’t even wipe your face, you’re too scared to let go of the ropes.

“that, uh, doesn’t look very activated.”

Papyrus bristles with indignation. “WELL!!! THIS CHALLENGE!!! IT SEEMS…” He glances around conspiratorially. “MAYBE… TOO EASY TO DEFEAT THE HUMAN WITH.” You sniff and dare look up at him. Really? “YEAH! WE CAN’T USE THIS ONE!!! EVEN THE HUMAN SEEMS DISTRESSED AT THE PROSPECT OF ATTEMPTING SUCH A TASTLESS CHALLENGE!!! I AM A SKELETON WITH STANDARDS!!! MY PUZZLES ARE VERY FAIR! AND MY TRAPS ARE EXPERTLY COOKED! BUT THIS METHOD IS TOO DIRECT! NO CLASS AT ALL! AWAY IT GOES!”

The Gauntlet falls away anticlimactically. You let out a chuckle of relief, and oh, there go more tears. Lovely. The icy air stings your face, and your everything, really, but you’re so relieved you don’t even care.

Papyrus looks relieved, too. “PHEW.” You look at him oddly. “WHAT ARE YOU LOOKING AT!? THIS WAS ANOTHER DECISIVE VICTORY FOR PAPYRUS!! NYEH!! HEH!!” He makes a confusing face, one you can’t name. “HEH???” He walks off, and for once, he does it normally.

That leaves you alone on the bridge. You dare to let go of one rope to wipe the tears from your face with your sleeve. Then you grab it again and keep walking. You must be close to Iceville, right? You have to keep going, even though you’re not sure why, now. You have to at least get off this bridge…

Sans is still there, though, staring at you. You’re too scared of letting go of the rope to grab your necklace or a rock like you usually would, so you bite your lip and grip the rope tighter. It’s rough against your hands, and you can feel angry welts begin to form. It’s fine, though. You’re just a few steps away.

Sans grins lazily at you, like he isn’t a traitor. You try to glare at him, but your eyes still feel weird from crying and some tears start to spill out. You wipe them away before he can see.

“here, i’ll give you some advice about fighting my brother.” You clench your jaw. He’s giving you advice now, is he? “don’t. capiche?”

Is he…threatening you now? Is that what he’s doing? No. No! You’re not doing this, not today, not after all this! “And—” Your throat is tight from crying, but you cough and start again. “And w-what am I supposed to do, if he—if he fights me, th-then?” You curse your stutter, but at least you got the words out.

His eyes go dark. “just don’t.”

You narrow your eyes. You are _not_ letting this go, not that easily. “S-so, so I’m just supposed to let him, let him kill me, then? I’m supposed to—to make some heroic sacrifice, so—so your brother can drag my corpse to the king, so he can be a hero? Is—is that your plan? Is that—is that what you wanted all—all along?” Your eyes start to leak again, traitors in your own face, but maybe he won’t notice if you don’t wipe them? You clench your fists and ignore your stinging palms. He looks uncomfortable, eye lights back and flicking around, but you refuse to give up. “Even when—when you helped me, did you really w-want me dead?”

“look, kiddo, i told you, my bro couldn’t hurt a fly,” he says, and he tries to continue, but you won’t let him.

“He can’t, can he?” you demand, “But he tried, didn’t he? He tried! The electricity maze, what would have happened if I ran through it, hmm? If I was holding this—” You pull out the orb. “Instead of him?” You throw it on the ground in front of him emphatically. “I’m human, Sans! I’d be dead!” Tears are streaming down your cheeks and there’s no way he can’t see them, but you don’t care now. “He tried to kill me, even if he couldn’t! And this, this gauntlet, if he hadn’t taken pity on me? If I had to go through it? What then? Do you think—do you think I could have survived a flamethrower, a swinging axe? A cannon, Sans? He might not have killed me, but he tried! He tried so hard! What happens if he succeeds?” Now you’re crying grossly, snot dripping from your nose, so you wipe that but leave your tears. “Is that what you want, Sans? Do you want me dead?”

The voices intervene simultaneously.

_*That’s enough.                               [Leave him alone, okay?]_

Really? And where were _they_ when Papyrus nearly killed you just then? You try to ignore them, to keep berating him until he finally gets it, but something won’t let you, and it’s not Left or Right taking over. Maybe it’s your conscience. You finally shut your mouth, swallow, and wait for his explanation.

He shoves his hands deeper into his pocket. You watch them move, watch them fidget like your own hands, and wonder if he’s clinking rocks together, too. He looks almost guilty, and the possible solidarity nearly makes you feel the same way. You blink hard and ignore it.

“i don’t know what to tell you, bucko,” he says finally, “but nah, no way i want you dead. how’d you come to think that?”

You huff out an incredulous laugh. “R-really? You—you don’t know? How about, I don’t know…how you—you don’t do anything when I’m in danger? When you promised to keep me safe! I—I could have died, Sans.” You sniff, and even though you know it probably wouldn’t be permanent, the thought of death still scares a final, choking sob out of you. “I could have died.”

He wipes a hand over his head, like he’s smoothing hair he didn’t have, or wiping away equally false sweat. Awkwardly, he takes a step forward, and more awkwardly, he puts a hand on your shoulder, patting it gently. You let him, and you’re not sure if it’s because you’re too tired or if you actually trust him. Both possibilities terrify you. “i never meant to scare you, kid. i knew what was going on the whole time, i knew you could handle it. i had an eye on you the whole time. i would’ve stepped in if i thought you were in danger.”

“I was scared.”

“yeah, yeah, i know. you’re gonna be fine, though, alright? you’re fine.”

You wipe your eyes and sniffle again. He hands you a tissue and you take it gratefully. Your sleeves had started getting gross. You sign a thank-you, rather than speaking it, because you spoke too much already. Your throat is sore, from yelling and crying and everything that’s happened so far. You want to go back to Ms. Mom.

“feeling better?” You nod. “good, good.”

You elbow his ribs hard to make sure he’s watching and start to sign. (You mostly just hurt your elbow, he’s too bony.) _You’re not going to tell me someone else is going to try to kill me now, are you?_

“no, no!” He pauses. “well, kinda.” You glare at him. “hey, just reminding you about my bro. make sure you understand blue attacks, kay?” You nod again. “and, uh. don’t hurt him, okay?”

You look at his pleading eyes and you want to promise so bad, but you refuse to lie, not now. _I’ll try not to._

“try real hard, okay?” he asks, “real hard. i promise, my bro’s a softie, he’d never hurt you on purpose. he’d never even hurt you on accident. trust me.”

You want to huff out a laugh again, demand to know why you should trust him. You want to press him for more answers, to yell at him more, make him feel worse. But you can’t.

_[Let it go. Please.]_

You are, you snap. You are! But Sans looks just hurt enough that you realize your anger slipped to your face. You try to bring it back to a nice smile, but you don’t think it works very well. _I trust you,_ you sign. It’s a lie, what you wanted to avoid, but it’s necessary.

“good.” His grin comes back, but you never noticed he lost it. “well, i’ll see you later, kid. have fun.”

You nod at him and turn to keep walking, dropping your smile with a deep sigh.

_*That was fun._

Yeah, real fun. But how far is Iceville now? You turn around to ask Sans, but when you look, he’s gone. Of course. You clench your fists in bitter anger but wince, fingernails digging into rope burn. You forgot about that. You kneel and shove your palms into a snowbank. You pocket the orb again, looking around for any sign of civilization. You’re not sure how “civilized” a village of monsters underground can actually be. Then again, Ms. Mom had a cell phone…

_*I think that sign is a pretty good sign._

You look up ahead in the path, and sure enough, just ahead is a sign. _Welcome to Snowdin._ So that’s the name. You’ll never remember it.

You stand and shake the snow from your hands. You’re so close now, just a few more feet, meters, steps…there it is. You can see it.

It’s a cozy little town, with a clearly-labelled shop and inn, and that box sitting between the two conjoined buildings. Ahead, you can see a little igloo and a nicely decorated evergreen tree. And standing in front of buildings, kneeling beside the tree, guarding doorways, are monsters. So many friendly-looking monsters. Talking, smiling, laughing. So. Friendly.

The sight of such a social town fills you with discomfort.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry my updates are so sporadic! I have no life, but I have no motivation either orz  
> This was my favorite chapter so far, I think you can guess why ;) (hint: I love to make my faves suffer) (and big brother snas is the best)


	14. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unlucky thirteen, whatever could it mean?  
> [Reminder that this story has a blog! Discomforttale.tumblr.com There's A Thing that might be going on soon to celebrate 200 subscribers, check it out maybe?]

You resist the urge to scream from pure social anxiety, because that would just call attention to yourself, and that’s the opposite of what you want. You want to blend in, make sure no one tries to talk to you, because you don’t think you can. At least not now. Maybe later…? But probably not. You just want to get out and keep going.

…why are you going, again?

Left and Right scoff, but no, you’re genuinely curious. Why had you wanted to go so bad? Where were you going? Back in the Ruins, you were going to Toriel’s house. You only left because Ms. Mom got angry with you, you never really wanted to leave. In the forest, you were headed to Icetown ( _*Snowdin_ ), just because it was a town and you were scared of being alone in an icy forest. But now that you’re here, in a town, in civilization, relatively safe…why do you have to go? You could be in danger if you went farther ahead. You could just…stay here.

The voices are quick to argue, too quick.

_*The surface! You have to get to the surface!_

_[B-but, we came all this way, you can’t give up…]_

_*We have a goal! The surface! We need to get out!_

_[You have to keep going!]_

But why? What goal? Can’t this be the goal? The surface has nothing for you. You can’t remember a thing about it, and if you can’t remember, if can’t be important. Besides, it’s not giving up if you never had a goal in the first place. You could decide that this _is_ the goal.

_[But…you have to…]_

Why? Why do you have to? They keep saying there’s a goal, there’s a reason, but they’re not explaining anything! You want answers. You’re not doing what they say until you get answers. Where are your answers?

…

You get silence. Of course.

You grumble to yourself and head for the nearby inn. Might as well check it out, if you’re going to be staying here. Your stomach rumbles in protest, but you convince it that you’ll make better food choices when you’re less tired. The voices protest silently, resisting just enough that your limbs feel a bit heavier than they should. You make it your mission to walk as if nothing is different, but you still wince when you grab the door handle. Stupid rope bridge.

It’s pretty expensive, or maybe you just don’t have much money. You’ll have to get a job or something. You’re not sure how. The innkeeper, a bunny, happily takes most of your gold and directs you to your room. Your neighbors are incredibly noisy, snoring louder than should be possible, but suddenly you realize that you’re exhausted enough to ignore your frustration and empty stomach and just sleep.

You dream.

For a moment you’re sure you died, from cold or hunger or the voices deciding you’re not worth the trouble or all three, because you hear _that_ voice again. Then you remember the last time you heard it, when you tried to sleep through Ms. Mom breaking the—when you tried to sleep last.

“Chisk, you have to keep going. Our fate rests upon you…you’re going to be alright!”

You sit up in the bed, dazed. You immediately flop back down, cover your face with a pillow, and scream into it. So you can’t even sleep anymore, can you? You blame Left and Right. They’re the only ones who would want you to “keep going” without telling you where to go. But…it didn’t sound like them, even though they don’t really “sound” like anything…and they were both hiding in their own brain corners like children throwing a tantrum…

You still blame them.

There’s nothing else to do in the room, and you’re still hungry, so you just leave, angry at having wasted your money. You might have been able to buy a nice meal with that.

“Hiya! You look like you had a great sleep.” You nearly scoff, but there’s no way she could have known, and she’s been nice to you. You bite it back with an obviously forced smile. “Which is incredible, because you were only up there for about two minutes…” Wait, what? It felt like a little longer than that, at least. “Here’s your money back. You can pay me if you’re going to stay overnight.”

You thank her profusely. Now you can actually buy some food! …from where, you’re not sure, but you have the money for it, anyway. You wave goodbye as you grab the door handle to leave, but you pause. It didn’t hurt. You look at your palms, and the rope burn is gone. You couldn’t have healed naturally that fast, and you hadn’t eaten anything. Come to think of it, you feel better than ever before, despite being hungry. What’s going on here?

The little rabbit seems to notice you. “Mom says that sleeping can recover your health above your maximum HP,” they said. “…what’s maximum HP?”

You prod at Left and Right for answers, but they’re both still sulking. You shrug at the kid and leave, confused. HP, that’s what keeps you strong, but how could you have above the maximum?

You shake your head and absentmindedly enter the shop, hoping to buy something slightly more nourishing than Nice Cream and at least half as nice. Inside, you’re greeted by a somewhat intimidating purple bunny woman. Her arms are crossed and the lighting casts her face in shadow, which does absolutely nothing to amend your assumption. You shrink, eyes wide. Oh no. Why did you think this was a good idea?

But you’re fine. She smiles kindly at you and asks where you’re from, she hasn’t seen you before. You sloppily sign something about being from out of town, and she keeps talking, saying something about history, the skeletons…you buy a bandana, just because you think it goes well with the glove you found before. You notice abs drawn on it once you look closer. Odd.

But you notice something else, a frosted, sticky-looking pastry. You point at it with a questioning look.

“Hmm? Oh, that’s a cinnamon bunny, my own recipe. 25G. Want one?”

You stare at the pastry for a long moment. Then you stare at the shopkeeper. Then back at the pastry.

“Not much for talking, eh?”

You keep staring.

The shopkeeper begins to sweat under her hat. “I’ll, uh…take that as a no, I g—”

“I want three.”

She looks taken aback. “Uh, okay, sure. Um.” You hand her the gold. “Th-thank you for your purchase…”

You take the cinnamon bunnies and stomp out of the store in an angry huff, dropping your purchases in the box. Papyrus looks _nothing_ like a cinnamon bunny!

_*Why did you buy three then?_

Because you have very little self-control when you’re hungry, apparently. And they looked good, even though you knew it wasn’t exactly a healthy meal. And apparently _someone_ can’t keep up the silent treatment for long.

You continue on, passing the nicely-decorated tree and a somewhat seedy-looking bar before your growling stomach suggests you turn around. Grillby’s? You glance around and note that yeah, it seems to be the only place that sells food in the entire town, other than the shop’s cinnamon bunnies. If you want food, you’ll have to risk it. You take a deep breath, and in you go.

Your heart drops into your stomach as soon as you step in. Everyone is talking, talking and saying nothing, you can’t tell one word from another. There’s music, not blaring but still too loud, but it mixes with the voices and you can’t even tell if there are words at all. It’s too bright and too dim at the same time, burning into your eyelids, stabbing like fluorescent knives into your brain. The burning light looks like it’s coming from a fire, and oh, oh god, it _is_ a fire, a fire wearing glasses at the bar. You close your eyes tightly, but that’s not enough—you have you press your knuckles into your eyelids just to keep out the light. But then there are people, you can’t let them out of your sight, you have to take a peek, and all you see is a blackout drunk rabbit in the booth closest to you. Oh god.

It takes you a minute to realize that you’re hyperventilating, clinging desperately to the door you haven’t even closed yet. By the time you close it (flinching at the click), everyone has stopped talking. They’re all staring at you. The fire crackles.

“He wants to know if you’re okay,” a red bird comments from beside the fire man.

You gape like a fish for a few seconds, looking around desperately for and escape route, and finally remember there’s one behind you. You bolt.

“Hey, wait!” the bird yells, but you don’t care, you have to leave, have to get out of there. You run, and you run into a tree, and you try to go around it but there are too many, too many to get though, you get all turned around so that you start running back _towards_ Gillby’s but you swerve and go up a path instead, past houses, past a mill and a wolf throwing ice, and nearly fall into the river before you catch yourself, panting. You let yourself fall back to land sitting, shaking and sobbing, arms wrapped around yourself.

You have to get out of this town.

_Now._

_*I’m glad you finally agree._

Shut up, you—you need to calm down. You close your eyes and breathe in, but there’s nothing to count, you’re breathing too fast, it’s just like before, you’re going to pass out, you’re going to—

_*No, you are not. You are going to be fine._

You blink hard, swallowing.

_[You’re out of that place now, you’re safe.]_

_*Shut up, I can handle this. Watch the river, it flows around the corner there, watch it bubble where it hits the bend. Listen to it, doesn’t it sound calm? You can barely hear it, right?_

You can tell when you’re being distracted, but it’s still working. You focus on the river, the splashing around the bank, the rock bed in the bottom, and you feel safer. You pick a flat rock off of the edge and inspect it, but it isn’t very nice. You throw it in the water. It skips once, twice, and falls. You lean over the edge to look for more, but catch sight of your face rippling in the pond. Your nose is redder than before, probably from the cold. Your hair is messier, from the wind, and your sweater has a few snags, from the trees. You sign a thank-you to your reflection.

_*If you want to thank me, get your butt in gear so we can finally get out of here._

You roll your eyes but get up anyway, smiling. They care about you.

_*I only helped because we need to get going! If you are going to get all sappy, I will let you deal with it yourself next time, you absolute trainwreck!_

You keep smiling and Left keeps ranting all the way out of town, until it starts to get foggy. Then you frown and Left goes really quiet. You can see something in the distance, just barely make it out. It’s tall, shaped like a person—oh no. It’s Papyrus.

“HUMAN,” he announces, voice booming in the fog. “ALLOW ME TO TELL YOU ABOUT SOME COMPLEX FEELINGS. FEELINGS LIKE…THE JOY OF FINDING ANOTHER PASTA LOVER. THE ADMIRATION FOR ANOTHER’S PUZZLE-SOLVING SKILLS. THE DESIRE TO HAVE A COOL, SMART PERSON THINK YOU ARE COOL. THESE FEELINGS…THEY MUST BE WHAT YOU ARE FEELING RIGHT NOW!!!”

Wait, what? No, no, that’s not right. That’s not what he’s supposed to be saying. You thought he was trying to make you feel better about fighting him, like Ms. Mom did, that it was nothing personal but he needed the notoriety. That he was trying to make you pity him.

You realize that you had never really _listened_ to his monologues before.

Maybe…he’ll let you go.

“I CAN HARDLY IMAGINE WHAT IT MUST BE LIKE TO FEEL THAT WAY. AFTER ALL, I AM VERY GREAT. I DON’T EVER WONDER WHAT HAVING LOTS OF FRIENDS IS LIKE.  I PITY YOU… LONELY HUMAN…WORRY NOT!!! YOU SHALL BE LONELY NO LONGER!” You won’t? Does that mean…? “I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS, WILL BE YOUR…”

…your…?

“…NO…” No? No what? “NO, THIS IS ALL WRONG! I CAN’T BE YOUR FRIEND!!!”

What? No, no! You were just starting to trust him! Why can’t you be friends? This is wrong, it’s not supposed to be this hard!

“YOU ARE A HUMAN! I MUST CAPTURE YOU!!!” No, no, no—! You’d scream it out loud, but your voice isn’t working. You watch your soul slowly sink out of your chest, grabbing at it desperately, but the fight is starting. You can’t stop it. “THEN, I CAN FULFILL MY LIFELONG DREAM!!! POWERFUL! POPULAR! PRESTIGIOUS!!! THAT’S PAPYRUS!!! THE NEWEST MEMBER…OF THE ROYAL GUARD!”

Briefly, you consider running, but Papyrus blocks the way. There’s no escape. No way out but to fight.

The thought of fighting your almost-friend fills you with discomfort.


	15. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just another reminder about this story's blog, discomforttale.tumblr.com ! Check it out if you want extra Chisk content. And thank you all for reading!

_*He likes to say “nyeh-heh-heh.”_

“NYEH-HEH-HEH!”

A few bones fly towards you, but you don’t even have to dodge them. The entire trail flows in a line far away, like he wasn’t even aiming. He wants to fight as little as you do. You might have a chance to…something. You’re not sure what.

You can, you can…scare him off! You’ll intimidate him, insult him, make him leave. That worked for the Froggits! “Y-your spaghetti is, um. It’s bad.”

He seems shocked, but manages to recover. “HOW SELFLESS…YOU WANT ME TO FEEL BETTER ABOUT FIGHTING YOU…I DON’T DESERVE SUCH HOSPITALITY FROM YOU…”

That…backfired. Maybe…pleading? No, no, he’s a bit of a narcissist, you can compliment him instead. Then he won’t want to fight you. “Your, um. Your armor is nice.”

“WHAT!? FL-FLIRTING!?” What? No, no, you’re not flirting!

_*Oh my god._

_[Yay!]_

“SO YOU FINALLY REVEAL YOUR ULTIMATE FEELINGS!” No, you don’t! “W-WELL! I’M A SKELETON WITH VERY HIGH STANDARDS!!!”

You shake your head frantically. “I have zero redeeming qualities!”

“OH NO!!!” Good, good… “THAT HUMILITY… IT REMINDS ME OF, MYSELF!!! YOU’RE MEETING ALL MY STANDARDS!!!” No, bad! Very bad!

“Your puzzles were too easy, and also pointless!”

“THERE’S NO NEED TO LIE TO YOURSELF!!! YOUR BARBS HIDE A HIDDEN AFFECTION! YOU EMOTIONAL CACTUS!”

_*Yes, the cactus. The most tsundere of plants._

You’re not a cactus! Or…whatever that word means.

_*Prove it, then. Just spare him._

Left was telling you to spare? That’s…unexpected. You follow their advice, though, and hold out your hands in a placating gesture.

“SO YOU WON’T FIGHT…” You nod. “THEN, LET’S SEE IF YOU CAN HANDLE MY FABLED “BLUE ATTACK!””

You hold still and wait for it to pass, but once it does, you feel heavy. Your soul turns dark blue and drops to the ground like a stone. You spot a crack in the side and start to panic, but Right assures you it was there before, that Papyrus won’t hurt you. You want to believe them.

“YOU’RE BLUE NOW. THAT’S MY ATTACK!!!” He laughs maniacally. You fear for your life.

More bones, white ones, fly towards you. You jump to the side to avoid them, but your now-blue soul stays where it is and gets hit. You feel it happen, pain radiating through your entire body. That’s not fair, you dodged it! You did, you swear!

“TRY THINKING “UP” TO JUMP!!!” Papyrus suggests gleefully, throwing more bones your way.

Why would you need to jump? You think it anyway, because you don’t have much choice. There’s nothing else to do. Sure enough, your soul bobs up a bit, but it falls down again.

“THINK “UP” LONGER TO JUMP HIGHER!!! JEEZ!!!”

“I’m trying!” you try to snap, but you only make it halfway through the second word when a particularly tall bone flies through your soul and makes you double over in pain. Dimly, you watch a few more bones pass through your soul without injuring it more, but then it crashes into a wall of bones and you’re on the ground with a cry. Now you’re done for, you just know it. One more hit, and—

The bones disappear. Your soul goes back into your chest. Papyrus laughs, grinning, and walks to you. “YOU’RE TOO WEAK! I WAS EASILY ABLE TO CAPTURE YOU!!!” Capture? But you though—“I WILL NOW SEND YOU TO THE CAPTURE ZONE!! OR, AS SANS CALLS IT… OUR GARAGE??? YOU’RE IN THE DOGHOUSE NOW!” The cold thing you’re lying against isn’t snow anymore, you notice at some point. It feels like metal, and you’re being carried by soft-gloved hands. The last thing you hear is Papyrus’s laughter ringing in your ears, “NYEH HEH HEH HEH HEH HEH HEH…”

And then you’re in a dog bed.

_*Nice job nearly dying._

_[You have to be more careful!]_

_*You forgot to heal. You have far too much candy, at least eat some of that._

Groggily, you pick yourself up from the floor—because that’s basically what the bed is, it’s too small to fit on entirely—and look around. You’re in a small, dilapidated room with two cracked windows, behind bars. This must be Papyrus’s garage, then. Garage, shed, storage…you glance to the side and spot a note and a bowl of kibble. A glance to the other side finds a bone. You recoil, remembering the battle, but when it doesn’t try to hit you in the face and/or soul you relax a bit.

_[Calm down. You’re safe.]_

Yes. You are. You take a deep breath and pull the candy bowl out of your inventory to quell the sickly pain still lingering in your gut, but Left grabs control of your arm for a moment to stop you.

_*I did not mean_ now _. You can just take a nap at the inn and regain even more health. Do not waste your healing items._

You huff. Fine, you’ll just risk dying to some random monster in town on the way there. But first, you’re going to read that note.

_[It’s from Papyrus!]_

You read it. “SORRY, I HAVE TO LOCK YOU IN THE GUEST ROOM UNTIL UNDYNE ARRIVES. FEEL FREE TO MAKE YOURSELF AT HOME!!! REFRESHMENTS AND ACCOMODATIONS HAVE BEEN PROVIDED. –NYEHFULLY YOURS, PAPYRUS.”

Yeah, “guest room.” You feel so welcomed behind these bars. Still, you slip through them easily, being the dodging master and all. You ignore Left’s mocking comment about your skills during the previous battle. Cautiously, you try the door handle, and surprisingly, it opens easily. Did he really expect you to stay here?

You (somehow) heal at the inn and make your way back to the foggy place where you battled Papyrus, shivering from cold and anticipation. You should be able to get through now, but…

But Papyrus is there again.

“OH…WHERE COULD THAT POOR HUMAN HAVE GONE…” You freeze in place. You wonder if you can walk around him, but he spots you. “WAIT. IT’S RIGHT IN FRONT OF ME!!! HELLO! I WAS WORRIED THAT YOU HAD GOTTEN LOST! IT SURE IS A RELIEF TO KNOW THAT YOU’RE RIGHT HERE, AND THAT YOU’RE ALRIGHT…” You stare at him incredulously. Didn’t he remember…? “…WAIT A SECOND!!! YOU’RE NOT SUPPOSED TO ESCAPE!!! GET BACK THERE!!!”

The battle recommences. You…don’t do much better than before. Papyrus monologues the same way as before, and you only hear a few more lines of his speech (which you’re sure he practiced) before you’re back on the ground, panting with the effort of holding yourself on your hands and knees.

“WELL!!! YOU MAY HAVE CLEVERLY ESCAPED FROM JAIL BEFORE… BUT THIS TIME, I’VE UPGRADED THE FACILITIES.” This time, you’re aware of being picked up and gingerly carried, but not much else. You try to struggle a bit, but it doesn’t do any good. “NOT ONLY WILL YOU BE TRAPPED… BUT YOU WON’T EVEN WANT TO LEAVE!!! NYEH HEH HEH HEH HEH HEH HEH!!!”

You wake up to the smell of kibble and hot dog in the same shack as before. After a quick read of the new note (“PLEASE ASK BEFORE YOU ESCAPE!!! WHEN YOU WENT MISSING I GOT WORRIED SICK!!! –SLIGHTLY BONETROUSLED, PAPYRUS”), you slip through the bars with ease and return to fight once again.

He talks a lot again, about spaghetti and knowing why you escaped (even though it was “impossible”), but you don’t have the energy to listen. Apparently, you don’t have the energy to battle, either, because after he wonders if anyone will ever like him as sincerely as you, you fall, once more, to the snowy ground to perform the same metaphorical song and dance. This happens more times than you can count, until finally, you give up. You decide you can’t get past him. Left and Right are less concerned than you expected about your decision.

“YOU’RE BACK AGAIN?!?!”

You shrug and nod. Yeah.

“I FINALLY REALIZE THE TRUE REASON WHY. YOU… JUST MISS SEEING MY FACE SO MUCH… I’M NOT SURE I CAN FIGHT SOMEONE WHO FEELS THIS WAY. BUT MOSTLY… I’M GETTING REALLY TIRED OF CAPTURING YOU!”

Wait, what? Is he…giving up? You nod in agreement, hoping he understands that you’re tired of being captured, too.

“…OKAY…I GUESS I’LL ACCEPT MY FAILURE…NYOO HOO HOO…I CAN’T EVEN STOP SOMEONE AS WEAK AS YOU…” You nearly get offended, but then you remember how easily you were defeated and close your mouth. “UNDYNE’S GOING TO BE DISAPPOINTED IN ME. I’LL NEVER JOIN THE ROYAL GUARD… AND…MY FRIEND QUANTITY WILL REMAIN STAGNANT!”

_*[Be his friend]_

“I could be your friend,” you say automatically, trying to smile. Your smile falls almost instantly. You didn’t mean to say that.

Papyrus doesn’t notice. He’s too excited. “REALLY!? YOU WANT TO BE FRIENDS, WITH ME??? WELL THEN… I GUESS… I GUESS I CAN MAKE AN ALLOWANCE FOR YOU!” He looks absolutely giddy. “WOWIE!! WE HAVEN’T EVEN HAD OUR FIRST DATE… AND I’VE ALREADY MANAGED TO HIT THE FRIEND ZONE!! WHO KNEW THAT ALL I NEEDED TO MAKE PALS… WAS TO GIVE PEOPLE AWFUL PUZZLES AND THEN FIGHT THEM??”

Your eyes widen. No. That is definitely not a good way to make friends. You nearly tell him, but he cuts you off with unhelpful directions to the surface, where you don’t even think you want to go. You’re nearly ready to leave when he continues.

“OH, I ALMOST FORGOT TO TELL YOU…TO REACH THE EXIT, YOU WILL HAVE TO PASS THROUGH THE KING’S CASTLE. THE KING OF ALL MONSTERS…HE IS…WELL…” Terrifying? Going to kill you? “HE’S A BIG FUZZY PUSHOVER!!!” The exact opposite of what Mom told you. “EVERYBODY LOVES THAT GUY. I AM CERTAIN IF YOU JUST SAY "EXCUSE ME, MR. DREEMURR…CAN I PLEASE GO HOME?” HE’LL GUIDE YOU RIGHT TO THE BARRIER HIMSELF!”

That’s…comforting, you suppose. And informative. You file that information away for later. But it doesn’t explain why Ms. Mom warned you about him.  She wouldn’t lie, would she? Or was Papyrus lying? “ANYWAY!!! THAT’S ENOUGH TALKING!!! I’LL BE AT HOME BEING A COOL FRIEND! FEEL FREE TO COME BY AND HAVE THAT DATE!”

Oh no. You thought he forgot about that by now. Still, he rushes away, flying overhead on some freak breeze, leaving you alone with your thoughts. All of them.

_[See? He isn’t that scary.]_

_*He is a cinnamon bunny, like we said. He could not hurt a fly. Or a cinnamon bunny._

But he could beat you within an inch of death and kidnap you. You’re even more terrified of him than before, after seeing his abilities. If he would have meant to kill you, you’d be dead.

_[But he didn’t. And you’re not.]_

_*Exactly._

_[Don’t forget to go on the date later! He’ll be waiting for you!]_

You give a somewhat ambiguous response to that question. For now, you’re moving forward. You spent all this time fighting him, you’re going to have something to show for it, dang it!

You follow the river through the thinning fog, watching a huge ice cube follow beside you. As you walk, you feel less cold, and more damp. Damp, damper, yet damper…the snow melts as you go on. Suddenly, there are no trees, just rocky walls. The air is humid and a big swampy. The floor is rocky, too, and you’re painfully reminded that, really, you _are_ underground. The river—no, it’s an underground stream, rivers only happen on the surface—makes a turn, and you’re left mostly alone for the rest of your journey.

Not for long, though. You spot an orange fish monster by a blue flower, a little yellow monster—it looks like a kid—with a striped sweater and no arms, and Sans, at his sentry station. It’s still covered in snow. You walk to him, glad to see a friendly face. Well. Usually friendly, anyway. You think you both came to an understanding when you had that talk, but you can’t be sure.

“hey, kid,” he says, waving a hand lazily in greeting. You gesture to his sentry stand questioningly. “what? haven’t you seen a guy with two jobs before? fortunately, two jobs means twice as many legally-required breaks.” You giggle at that. “good job making it this far, kid. we should celebrate. c’mon, i’ll take you to grillby’s.”

You freeze. Oh no, you do _not_ want to go back there. But Sans will be with you…but it was terrifying. You debate for several minutes (Sans seems concerned passed a point) but finally nod. You can do this. You know what to expect now. And you’re still hungry.

He grins lazily once more. “well, if you insist… i’ll pry myself away from my work…” He walks the wrong way. You tap his shoulder. Grillby’s is the other way! “heh. c’mon, i know a shortcut.”

You frown, but follow him anyway. You guess you should trust him.

You blink, and suddenly you’re inside Grillby’s. Wait, what? No, no, this is bad, you were expecting a whole long walk to prepare, you can’t do this _now_! The lights are bright, the bar is loud, the fire dances angrily…you squeeze your eyes shut and cover your ears, ducking over to keep out the light better, biting hard on your lip.

The sights and sounds of the bar fill you with discomfort.


	16. Chapter 15

You hear Sans’s voice, but you can’t tell what he’s saying over the music and the talking. You can feel it as a rumble deep in your chest, sending burning, tingly pinpricks to your fingertips and down to your toes. The lights seem loud, too, only what they’re making burn is the area behind your eyes. Everything is _wrong_. You’re not supposed to feel like this. It’s wrong and _bad_ in more ways than your reeling, split thoughts can describe.

A bony, padded arm wraps around your shoulders. You turtle further into yourself, pulling your scarf over your face, but you don’t pull away. It’s something you can feel, something you can focus on that isn’t sending fire down your limbs. With that grounding force, you can finally hear his words.

“—id? kid, listen, can you hear me? are you ok?” He sounds worried, _looks_ worried, but he’s still smiling, even though it’s pulled too tight. Your eyes are squeezed tight enough that you can hear a chorus of greetings directed towards Sans, getting progressively less enthusiastic as, one by one, they begin to notice you.

Still covering one ear, you do your best to sign one-handed, but you can’t do the grammar right with your face covered. _O-K. Too much loud. I [future] O-K._

Sans takes your response as a request. “yeah, sure thing kid.” He calls across the room towards the bar. “hey, turn down the juke, will ya, grillbz? you’re blowin’ my eardrums out here!”

The same rabbit from earlier giggles. “Sansy, you don’t even have those!”

He glances at the rabbit lazily. “not since you guys got to ‘em.” The bar goes wild.

By now, you’ve dared to look around, licking your sore lip. With the music a bit quieter (along with the patrons), the lights aren’t as overwhelming. No one seemed too concerned about you anymore. How long had it been? A check with Left and Right assures you it was only a few seconds. It felt like an eternity.

Sans taps your shoulder gently. “wanna stick around, or make a break for it? we can always grab a bite at my place, if you don’t mind spaghetti.”

You shake your head, both to clear it and as an answer, but you realize it wasn’t a yes-or-no question. You stand up straighter. No one is looking at you anymore. You haven’t lost too much face. They seem…nice. Maybe they’re like Papyrus. Plus, your stomach is rumbling again. “I’m fine. The food smells good.”

He winks. “you’re the boss, kid.” He ushers you towards the counter. “here, get comfy.” You sit on the stool, and a long, loud fart noise resonates above the nearly-muted music. You send him a judging look. “whoops, watch where you sit down. sometimes weirdos put whoopee cushions on the seats.” You just roll your eyes.  “anyway, let’s order. whaddya want…? burger, fries…?”

You freeze. Oh. You forgot that restaurants mean making decisions about food. You love nice and crispy fries, but you’re so hungry you should probably get a burger instead, but you really feel like eating potatoes for some reason, but you haven’t had meat since you fell and that can’t be too healthy…

“you know what, why don’t you just get both?” Sans suggests after a lengthy silence, one which Left and Right confirm was as long as or longer than you felt it was. You just nod, even though you had nearly decided on compromising on a hotdog instead. “hey, that sounds good.” He calls to the bartender. “grillbz, we’ll have a double order of burg ‘n’ fries.”

You smile and nod at ‘Grillbz’ in thanks, not just for the food, but for the music, too. He seems to nod back. Or maybe it was just a flicker of his fire head. You can’t be sure. He doesn’t seem as scary anymore, now that things have calmed down.

“so…what do you think of my brother?” Sans asks.

You think for a moment. “He’s…” Intimidating, long-winded, narcissistic, oblivious, overdramatic, naïve… “He’s really cool.”

“of course he’s cool. you’d be cool too if you wore that outfit every day. he’d only take that thing off if he absolutely had to. oh well. at least he washes it. and by that i mean he wears it in the shower.”

Your food comes out seconds later, and you thank the bartender for his fast service. You’re sure he nods this time, because his glasses bob up and down his face a bit. Sans offers you some ketchup, but you decline.

“oh yeah, i wanted to ask you something.” Suddenly, the lights dim. Everyone freezes but you and Sans, and even the music is silent. Panicked, you reach for Left and Right, clawing desperately at the corners of your mind, but all you feel are distant echoes. They’re gone. Sans, though…he continues, still grinning, but you hear the seriousness in his voice. “do you ever feel like something’s happened before?”

Did he know? About the cheese? How you died, but you returned? It didn’t seem possible. Not even Left and Right knew, and they were right there in your head. But they aren’t here now…dreading his response, you nod. “Y-yeah,” you choke, feeling like you need to speak about this, to accept it fully. “Yeah, I do.”

“so you know all about it,” he says, but pauses. You see a look pass over his face and he continues in a completely different tone. “déjà-vu.”

He says it so decisively you almost believe it’s what he meant all along, but you remember how serious he was, how his face changed. You stay silent. You’ll wait. You’ll see what he has to say.

“some people say it’s just a glitch in your brain. you know, like a computer. it takes a memory but it makes two copies on accident, except one of them winds up dated somewhere in the past.” You nod, prompting him to continue. You know he has a point. “others have another theory. ever heard of the multiverse?”

You shake your head, frowning. You feel like it should be familiar, but you can’t access that memory now. Maybe you’re having reverse déjà-vu.

“well, it’s pretty simple. in the multiverse, the same event can happen different ways, depending on the universe. in one, you could have ordered just a burger and used ketchup. in another, you ordered fries but still refused. since they’re possible, they happened, even though they didn’t happen _here_. you following me?” You nod. “good. so basically, some people think that when you’re having déjà-vu, the same thing is happening in another universe at the same time, when something happened different before.” He closes his eyesockets and exhales, even though he shouldn’t have to. “i have a different theory.”

He looks directly at you, and you know he’s looking at your soul, in the most literal sense possible. “i get déjà-vu a lot, y’know that? and i can’t believe another universe can be that similar to this one. i think this feeling, this déjà-vu, it has to be right. i think the universe—or something in it—sometimes decides it doesn’t like how something happens, so it goes back and changes it. like rewinding a movie, except the scene plays out a little different the next time. maybe someone died before, but the universe didn’t want its favorite character to be killed off, so it goes back a few steps and changes its mind. or sometimes it’s more mundane, like seeing what happens if someone answers a question differently.”

He looks away. You can breathe again, but not for long. “so what do you think, kid?” he asks, and before you know what you’re doing you’re shrugging, you’re shaking your head, playing clueless, but he won’t let you. “i know what i think. i think you know the answer, but you don’t want to say it. so here’s a better question.” He looks back at you, but his eyes are dark and lifeless. “are you a dirty brother killer?”

The tears prick the corners of your eyes, leaving you shocked into wide-eyed silence. How did he know? Before you know what’s going on, before you can question what murder has to do with déjà-vu, you’re covering your mouth and shaking with horror. You thought it was behind you. You thought you could move on.

His face softens. His eyes come back. “listen, i don’t blame you, okay?” he rambles nervously, “i know, it’s scary when you’re all alone and someone’s trying to hurt you and you don’t even understand why. i get it. i’m not mad. i just…i want to know for sure, make sure i’m not going crazy. i’m not mad.”

Sniffing, you don’t give him a straight answer. You can’t. “How’d you know?” you ask instead, hoping that’s confession enough.

“i told you, kid. déjà-vu. ’cept sometimes things play out different from how i remember. the memories are gone after a bit, but every time i remember something, i write it down, and i remembered a little human killer.”

“So you…you knew him.” He looks surprised, shocked, angry. You didn’t mean to make him upset. “I’m sorry!” you say quickly.

“of course i knew him,” he says, but now he’s just confused. “he’s my _brother_.”

You blurt it out before you can think. “Your brother’s a _frog_?”

He looks at you funny for a second, then he starts laughing. “kid—kid, what?” he chokes between gasps for air he shouldn’t need. “what are you—what?”

“I—The Ruins,” you stammer. “Back in The Ruins, I—there was this, this Froggit, and it scared me, and I didn’t mean to, but I—it was an accident!” He’s still laughing. Why isn’t he taking this seriously? “ _Stop it!_ ”

He does. “i’m sorry, kid,” he says seriously, honestly. “here i thought—but no, you didn’t.” He says it with such a finality you’re sure he’s just convincing himself. “a froggit, you say?”

You nod and wipe your eyes. “What didn’t I do?”

“nothing.” He shakes his head. “nothing, it must have been a nightmare i got mixed up with a memory. sorry.”

You know he’s lying. There’s no way it’s “nothing,” not when he was so worried about it, but you feel sick from remembering what you did and you just want this conversation to be over, so you nod. You’ve been doing a lot of nodding recently, especially when you don’t agree. You’re a dirty liar _and_ a dirty murderer now.

“thanks.” The lights come back on, along with the music, and the conversations around you resume. You reach for Left and Right and find them right where they always are, teasing you good-naturedly about your worry. They didn’t hear anything.

Sans gets up from the stool and stretches, looking around. “welp, that was a long break. i can’t believe i let ya pull me away from work for that long.” He turns around to look at you. “by the way…i’m flat broke. can you foot the bill? it’s just 10000G.”

What? No way, you can’t afford that!

He waves his hand. “just kidding.” He calls to the bar. “grillby, put it on my tab.” He starts to leave and nearly makes it to the door before turning around. “by the way…” You resist the urge to groan. Nothing good ever happens when he says that. “i was going to say something, but i forgot.” With that, he exits.

Leaving you alone. In the bar. Oh no.

You jump from your chair and run. You make it halfway to the door before your stomach reminds you that you didn’t actually eat anything, so you turn around and grab your disposable tray of food. Thinking twice, you take Sans’s untouched food, too. Grillby seems to look at you suspiciously, but he turns away without a word when you give him a sheepish grin. Then you make a run for the door, shoving a few fries into your mouth.

The voices keep teasing you all the way to the river, where you’ve decided to have your sort-of picnic, but you know they don’t actually mean it. Well, Right doesn’t. It’s hard to tell with Left, but you think they’re teasing you good-naturedly too. They’ll deny it to the ends of the earth, but deep down they really care about you, in their own prickly sort of way.

Turns out you aren’t as hungry as you thought, you realize guiltily as you take a single bite from what used to be Sans’s burger. You managed to eat yours, at least. You throw the remaining fries in the river, hoping there are a few fish that can nibble on them. Then you throw the burger in the woods for any animals, or at least to fertilize the trees. Neither of them would last long in your inventory, you don’t think (and you don’t want to risk them going bad), so at least something can use them.

You’re about to throw the trays in a trashcan before you second guess yourself. They’re little plastic fry cages, and they looked disposable at first, but maybe Grillby washes them and just replaces the paper. You can’t just throw away his stuff, even on accident. You’ll have to go back in. You steel your nerves, square your shoulders, and open the door once more.

The bar is loud. Your ears and eyes sting, but it’s not as bad as before so you only have to squint. You’re getting used to it. Grillby takes one look at you (at least you think he does by the way his glasses glint) and puts down the glass he’s cleaning to gesture at a horse monster wearing sunglasses near the jukebox. The horse monster nods and lowers the volume. It seems like Grillby is getting used to you, too.

You make it to the bar smiling and place the fry cages on the countertop, thanking him for the meal in sign language. You recognized the gesture as the sign for turn down—minus the facial grammar, of course—and were glad to know someone else who can understand you. You offer to pay for your meal, but Grillby insists Sans will take care of it and you don’t have to worry. So you don’t.

You leave the bar much more cheerfully than you entered it.

_*That’s nice. Now can we go?_

Yes, fine. You roll your eyes and head out of town, towards the cave place you met Sans in.

_[Don’t forget the date!]_

Speak of the devil. You walk past the skeleton brothers’ house and there Papyrus is, grinning as wide as his skull can allow.

“SO YOU CAME BACK TO HAVE A DATE WITH ME!”

You freeze. Um. No, actually.

His smile falters a bit. “UM. YOU…YOU DID COME BACK FOR THE DATE, DIDN’T YOU?”

Before you know what you’re doing, you’re nodding again. You don’t want him to be sad.

He brightens far too quickly. “WOWIE! YOU MUST BE REALLY SERIOUS ABOUT THIS…I’LL HAVE TO TAKE YOU SOMEPLACE REALLY SPECIAL…A PLACE I LIKE TO SPEND A LOT OF TIME!!!”

As he drags you across the town, you can only wonder what you’ve gotten yourself into.

The idea of going on a date fills you with discomfort.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long! Life got in the way, you know how it is. Bad news, though: this was my buffer chapter. The next chapter is in progress, but it'll be a while. Maybe even longer than this one was. Again, sorry!  
> I really enjoyed writing this chapter, though. I told you the plot would be different from the game!


	17. Chapter 16

He drags you back from where you came from originally, gesturing grandly at the building. Which was exactly what you were standing in front of before he dragged you across the town. What was the point? “MY HOUSE!”

He seems so excited you _have_ to force a smile at him, no matter how shaky and nervous it turns out to look.  He grins back at you and whips around, running into his house. He (accidentally, you think) slams the door in your face, leaving you blinking and confused.

You could leave, you reason. You could just walk back through the foggy place, down to the caverns, and continue your journey. You could leave this awkward time behind you, and sure, it’d be rude, but you would never have to see him again in your life. He’s so nice he’d just assume you had something important to do. Sans might never forgive you, but you don’t like him much anyway. But he is scary…

_*Don’t you dare._

Don’t you dare _what_?

_[Don’t date the skeleton!]_

Do…do they _not_ want you to date him?

_*No! I mean, yes! I mean…don’t you dare stand him up!_

…stand him up…?

_[Don’t leave him alone! Go on the date! He’s so happy!]_

So they’re giving you orders now? Well, they already did that, anyway. But their insistence is what pushes you over the edge and makes you decide that yes, you agreed to the date, you have to go through with it. Steeling your resolve, you open the door.

“WELCOME TO SCENIC MY HOUSE!” Papyrus says cheerfully. “ENJOY AND TAKE YOUR TIME!”

You nod, grinning appreciatively, and take a look around from the doorway. There’s a rock on the table! On…a plate? But it’s a rock! You take a closer look and notice it’s covered in sprinkles.

“AH, I SEE YOU’VE TAKEN A LIKING TO MY BROTHER’S PET ROCK.” You nod, because you like rocks, but it’s a pet? You didn’t know rocks could be pets. But you didn’t know they could talk either…you shake away the memory from the Ruins. “HE ALWAYS FORGETS TO FEED IT. I HAVE TO TAKE RESPONSIBILITY, AS USUAL.”

Rocks need food? You didn’t know that. Have you been starving your rocks? Frantically, you reach in your pockets and pull out one of your rocks. It’s smooth and gray and fits in the palm of your hand.

“OH! YOU ALSO HAVE A PET ROCK? WHAT A COINCIDENCE!” He crosses the living room to stand beside you, staring over your shoulder. “IT’S A VERY NICE ROCK, IF I DO SAY SO MYSELF, BUT THE GREAT PAPYRUS IS NO ROCK EXPERT. DESPITE BEING AN EXPERT AT MANY OTHER THINGS.”

You sign a very fast thank-you, grinning probably too wide but very happily. He likes your rocks! Well, one of them. Shyly, you take a few more out of your pockets and hold them out for his approval. The angular red one nearly falls out of your hands, but you catch it and let it roll into a small black stone. The red one leaves a little dusty mark where they clink together. You hope it’s okay.

“OH MY! YOU HAVE A WHOLE LITTER OF ROCKS! HOW DO YOU TAKE CARE OF THEM ALL? YOU MUST BE A VERY RESPONSIBLE ROCK OWNER.” He gasps. “WHY DON’T YOU PUT YOUR ROCKS WITH SANS’S ROCK? MAYBE THEY’LL BE FRIENDS! JUST LIKE US!”

What a wonderful idea! Your rocks were probably lonely in your pockets. You arrange a few in a circle around the rock already on the table, but decide that’s not good. You don’t want to crowd Sans’s rock. You put them in a little clump a few inches away instead. They’ll come together in their own time.

“I’LL GO GET SOME SPRINKLES FOR YOUR ROCKS. I _AM_ AN EXCELLENT HOST, AFTER ALL!”

You follow him to the kitchen, but turn around halfway there. You don’t want to crowd Papyrus, either. Instead, you return to the living room and shuffle awkwardly near the wall for a few minutes before Right convinces you Papyrus won’t be mad if you sit down on the couch. You do what they suggest and sit, but the couch jangles. What? You reach inside and find some coins. You hold them in your hands for a while, debating. You need more money, but this is Papyrus’s money. And Sans’s money. And Sans is scary. And Papyrus is too, but only a little bit. Finally, after Left reminds you that Papyrus will come back some time, you compromise by pocketing about half of the coins you find.

_*You got 12G._

Yes, that should be enough. For now, anyway. You can get more later, when more monsters attack you.

…you don’t want that to happen.

“ALRIGHT!” Papyrus says, making you jump. The couch jangles more. “THE ROCKS HAVE BEEN FED. YOU CAN LOOK AROUND IF YOU LIKE, OR SIT HERE ON THE COUCH AND WATCH MY FAVORITE GAME SHOW!”

His favorite? You glance at the television. It’s blaring an obnoxious, eye-searing rainbow of color with the words “Stay tuned for a new program—MTT” plastered on it.

“WELL, IT’S USUALLY BETTER THAN THIS,” he admits to your judging side-eye glance. “DON’T JUDGE ME!”

You’re not, you say by putting your hands palm out and ducking your head down. Hoping to smooth over any hurt feelings, you pat the couch next to you. He can join you and you can both wait for the show to come back. Watching a show together is a date thing, right?

“SORRY HUMAN, BUT I CANNOT JOIN YOU,” he says. “THE GREAT PAPYRUS IS AN EXCELLENT HOST, AND AN EXCELLENT HOST CAN’T SIMPLY LAZE ABOUT WITH A GUEST TO ATTEND TO!”

You frown. Oh. You really don’t want to sit down if he can’t. That’s probably rude. So you stand up and look up and the second floor. There’s stairs leading up to two doors. There’s a large painting of a bone sitting between a door covered in caution tape and a door with…lights coming out from under it? Oh no, what is that? You point to the door, looking towards Papyrus.

“OH, THAT? THAT’S SANS’S ROOM.” Oh. That’s…not comforting. “YOU SEEM SORT OF…SCARED? WELL, THERE’S A GOOD REASON TO BE SCARED OF SANS’S ROOM.” Your eyes go even wider than usual. What’s in there? “IT’S AN ABSOLUTE DUMP! I WILL NOT BE SURPRISED WHEN I FINALLY LEARN THAT HIS DIRTY SOCKS HAVE GAINED SENTIENCE.”

Your shoulders slump and you let out a sigh of relief. Oh. That’s a lot better than all of the things you were expecting.

“BUT FEAR NOT, HUMAN, FOR I HAVE MADE IT MY MISSION TO NOT ALLOW THE REST OF OUR HOUSE TO BECOME SUCH A TRASH HEAP! IN FACT, I MUST SAY I KEEP IT RATHER TIDY, CONSIDERING.”

You nod. It’s a very tidy house.

“WHY THANK YOU, HUMAN.” He notices you glancing towards the other door, the one covered in warning signs. “THAT’S MY ROOM! IF YOU’VE FINISHED LOOKING AROUND, WE COULD GO IN AND…” He looks briefly puzzled. “DO WHATEVER PEOPLE DO WHEN THEY DATE?”

Oh. Oh. So that wasn’t a date yet. You thought…oh well. You nod. Might as well get this over with. Maybe then you can let him down gently…

“ALRIGHT THEN!” He races up the stairs and into his room.

Once again, you’re faced with the very real possibility that you could just…walk out. Leave. Give up. Before Left and Right can even begin bugging you, though, you narrow your eyes. You’re _not_ going to give up.

Still, the thought of _actually_ dating the skeleton fills you with discomfort.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long! I know you don't like to hear it, but real life got in the way. The next chapter might take awhile, but probably not as long as this one took!


	18. Chapter 17

At the top of the stairs, you can finally read the signs. Before then, they were really blurry, and you thought one said something about an owl. That was wrong, though. Now, you can finally read what they really say: “(NO GIRLS ALLOWED!) (NO BOYS ALLOWED!) (PAPYRUS ALLOWED.)” Oh.

You send the question to Left and Right. You’re kind of embarrassed you didn’t ask earlier. _Are you girls or boys?_

_*I am not._

_[Me neither!]_

Oh. You’re not, either. Good. You open the door and enter with a smile, glad you’re not breaking any rules.

It’s a very nice room. It’s neat and tidy, and also neat in the other sense. His bed is a car! He also has a table with some toys on it. They look collectible. Does he collect them? You also collect things! That would be another thing you have in common! You turn to ask him about it and notice he’s shuffling from foot to foot in the middle of the room. You frown, but you make yourself smile again and point at the toys.

He brightens up and rushes to the table, you trailing close behind. “AH, YES, ACTION FIGURES! A GREAT REFERENCE FOR THEORETICAL BATTLE SCENARIOS.” You make a sweeping gesture across the table. There’s so many, does he collect them? You need to know! “HOW DO I HAVE SO MANY?” Well, not quite, but close enough. You nod. “WELL, LET’S JUST SAY THEY’RE FROM…A CHUBBY, SMILING MAN WHO LOVES TO SURPRISE PEOPLE.” Oh. Well, even if his brother got them for him, he could still collect them? “YEAH!! THAT’S RIGHT! SANTA!!!!”

You blink. Santa? …Sansta? No, he said Santa. What’s—oh. Oh yeah.

_*…you seriously forgot what Santa was for a second._

_[Don’t be mean, they remembered!]_

Papyrus looks nervous again, probably because you’re just standing and not doing anything, so you point at one of the action figures. Hopefully, he’ll talk for so long you’ll forget your embarrassment.

“THIS ONE IS MODELED AFTER MY FAVORITE TELEVISION STAR’S CHARACTER IN HIS MOST RECENT ACTION FILM! WOWIE, THE WAY HE DEFEATED THE ROBOT NINJA SHARK WAS AMAZING…” You point to another. “OH! AND THIS ONE…” He looks around. “WELL, I DON’T ACTUALLY KNOW WHAT THIS ONE IS? IT MUST BE A HUMAN ACTOR. I THINK THEIR NAME MUST START WITH AN ‘S,’ SINCE THAT’S WHAT’S ON THEIR CHEST. …MAYBE SAM? BUT I LIKE THEIR CAPE! IT MATCHES MY SCARF.”

He bounces from foot to foot some more. “SO, UM…IF YOU’VE SEEN EVERYTHING…DO YOU WANT TO START THE DATE?”

_[Yes!]_

_*Date the skeleton!_

Alright, alright! It’s not like you wanted to see the rest of his room or anything. Stupid pushy voices…but you might as well get it over with. You nod.

“OKAY! DATING START!”

Nothing seems to change, but you feel a difference. Anticipation, you assume. You’re on a date, actually, for real. You’re both just standing, looking at each other, not doing anything, but…

You don’t think you like it.

“HERE WE ARE!” he says, “ON OUR DATE!” He frowns. “I’VE ACTUALLY NEVER DONE THIS BEFORE…”

You nod in agreement, grinning sheepishly. You…don’t know what to do.

“OH, YOU’RE ALSO NEW TO DATING?” You nod again. “WELL DON’T WORRY, YOU CAN’T SPELL ‘PREPARED’ WITHOUT SEVERAL LETTERS FROM MY NAME!” He whips out a book of some sort. “I SNAGGED AN OFFICIAL DATING RULEBOOK FROM THE LIBRARY! WE’RE READY TO HAVE A GREAT TIME!”

Dating rulebook? They have those? You want to read it! You thought he and you were on the same page, but even if neither of you dated before, he still knows more. You’re so behind. You hold onto a rock in your pocket for moral support.

“STEP ONE, PRESS THE ‘C’ KEY ON YOUR KEYBOARD FOR THE ‘DATING HUD.’”

Keyboard? What keyboard?

_*On your phone, idiot. Do not keep him waiting._

Oh. You pull out the phone Mom gave you and do what he said. They’re graphs, and charts, and dogs…? You’re even more confused.

“WOWIE! I FEEL SO INFORMED! STEP TWO, ASK THEM ON A DATE.” He nods. “SEEMS REASONABLE. WELL, HUMAN…I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS…WILL GO ON A DATE WITH YOU!”

What? That’s…not a question. You shake your head, wrinkling your eyebrows kinda funny.

“OH. THAT’S…UNFORTUNATE.” Oh, did he think you were answering? “BUT FORTUNATELY, IT ONLY SAYS TO ASK!”

You blink. That’s…not good.

…you really don’t think you like this.

“STEP THREE, PUT ON NICE CLOTHES TO SHOW YOU CARE!” That’s reasonable. “…WAIT.” Wait what? “THAT NECKLACE YOU’RE WEARING, SHAPED LIKE A BANDAGE…YOU’RE WEARING CLOTHING RIGHT NOW!” You look at it. Well, you guess, but you’d usually call that jewelry. Your sweater is clothing, though. “NOT ONLY THAT, BUT EARLIER TODAY, YOU WERE ALSO WEARING CLOTHING!” …yes…? “COULD IT BE…YOU WANTED TO DATE ME FROM THE VERY BEGINNING?”

_*Obviously!_

What? No! You shake your head frantically. Clothes do not mean you want to date someone! People wear clothes rather often actually!

He spouts out something about your interest being predestined (which, no…) and hides in his closet. He comes out wearing…something. His “secret style.” It’s certainly…something. It should be funny, to see him standing there with basketballs on his shoulders, but it’s not. You think it would be, though, if it were happening…somewhere else, in any other situation. You roll rocks around in your hand, waiting for the date to be over. You just…you want to _leave_. You don’t like this.

“YOU DON’T TRULY UNDERSTAND THE HIDDEN POWER OF THIS OUTFIT!!! THIS DATE WON’T ESCALATE ANY FURTHER!!!” You groan silently. What’s even going on? “…UNLESS YOU FIND MY SECRET!!” He pauses. “BUT THAT WON’T HAPPEN!!”

You look around the room, completely lost. You want to _leave_.

_[…do you want a hint?]_

You shake your head. No. You didn’t even want to do this in the first place. You didn’t want to date the skeleton, you didn’t want to fight the skeleton, you didn’t want to try to leave town, you didn’t want to leave Mom! You didn’t want any of this!

“…DOES THAT MEAN YOU GIVE UP, HUMAN?” You turn your attention back to Papyrus. You almost forgot he was here. “YOU SEEM…FRUSTRATED. UPSET.” He gasps. “OH NO! MY DATING IS COMPLETELY BACKFIRING!”

You don’t want to be here. You _don’t want to be here_.  _You don’t—_ “I _don’t!_ ”

“…HUMAN…?”

You stare at him for a second. You feel like you’re about to cry.

“HUMAN, ARE…YOU OKAY?”

You swallow. “I…don’t,” you say.

“DON’T…WHAT?”

“I don’t!” you snap. “I don’t…want this. I don’t…I just don’t!”

“I CAN JUST TELL YOU WHERE THE SECRET IS IF YOU DON’T WANT TO LOOK,” he says. “I DIDN’T MEAN TO UPSET YOU…”

“No!” You might be crying a little bit. You sniff. “I…I don’t want…this. I didn’t…I wasn’t flirting. I don’t…I don’t want this.”

“YOU DON’T…WANT TO DATE ME?”

You shake your head.

“OH. THAT IS…DISAPPOINTING,” he says. You sniff again. You didn’t want to make him sad. “BUT ALSO A GOOD THING!” What? “I…I SPENT THE WHOLE DATE TRYING TO FIND A WAY TO BREAK IT TO YOU. I…DIDN’T LIKE YOU, THE WAY I THOUGHT YOU LIKED ME. UM. ROMANTICALLY, I MEAN.” He grins nervously. “I TRIED TO! I THOUGHT THE DATE WOULD MAKE ME LIKE YOU! BUT…IT DIDN’T WORK.” He puts his hands on his hips. “IT MIGHT HAVE THOUGH! IF I GAVE IT ENOUGH TIME, AND…” He sighs, letting his arms fall. “OH, WHO AM I KIDDING? NO, I DO NOT THINK I COULD FEEL THAT WAY ABOUT YOU, EVER…” Just seconds later, he brightens up. “WELL, HUMAN, THERE IS ONE GOOD SIDE TO THIS.”

You sign a ‘what?’

“I DIDN’T LEAD YOU ON! I THOUGHT, BY GOING ON THIS DATE, I HAD ONLY DRAWN YOU DEEPER INTO YOUR INTENSE LOVE FOR ME! NOW THAT I KNOW THAT LOVE DID NOT EXIST, I CAN REJECT YOU WITHOUT FEAR! NYEHEHEHEH-HEHHH!”

You feel a change once more. It’s the tension being broken, you assume. You close your eyes and breathe in deeply, then let the breath out with a sigh. You feel so much better.

“WELL…WHAT DO WE DO NOW?”

You hum. What _do_ you do now? You don’t want to leave yet. You just started enjoying yourself, or at least stopped feeling so bad. Suddenly, an idea crosses your mind. “…we could make spaghetti?”

Papyrus’s hands fly to his face and he gasps, eyes almost sparking, and you know you made the right choice.

* * *

 

_[Hangout commence!]_

_*I know that I should not be surprised at this point, but I cannot help but be amazed at how terribly this did not go._

_[Have some faith in them!]_

_*Forgive me if I do not feel the same optimism._

_[They’re doing okay. They’re going to be fine.]_

_*…you had better not be wrong._

* * *

 

“…AND THEN UNDYNE YELLED AT ME FOR BOTHERING HER AT MIDNIGHT, BUT WHEN SHE WOKE UP THE NEXT MORNING SHE AGREED TO TRAIN ME!” Papyrus kicked his feet excitedly, holding onto his plate so it wouldn’t fall from where it sat on his bony knees. “AND THAT’S HOW I LEARNED TO MAKE SPAGHETTI. DO YOU LIKE IT?”

You had taken a bite of a little noodle earlier, when you had both first sat down on the couch to watch Papyrus’s favorite show. It was certainly…something. “It’s very unique,” you say.

“IT IS! UNDYNE AND I ARE THE ONLY ONES IN THE WORLD WHO KNOW THE RECIPE!” He takes a bite. “WELL,” he adds once he’s done chewing, “I GUESS YOU KNOW IT NOW, TOO. SO DON’T TELL ANYONE, OKAY?”

You nod and draw an X over your heart. You promise.

“SAY, HUMAN, DID YOU LOOK AT YOUR ROCKS SINCE WE ENDED THE DATE WE DECIDED TO NEVER SPEAK ABOUT AGAIN?” You shake your head. Why? “BECAUSE, WELL. LOOK AT THEM!”

You stand up to get a better look. They’re all huddled together, surrounding Papyrus’s rock. They’re cuddling. You smile.

“AWW! OUR ROCKS HAVE BECOME FRIENDS! IT’S A SHAME WE’LL HAVE TO SEPARATE THEM EVENTUALLY…”

You frown. You don’t want your rocks to be sad, and you don’t want Papyrus to be sad, and you’re going to have to leave eventually…

“OH! HUMAN, I HAVE A GREAT IDEA! GIVE ME YOUR PHONE!”

Why would he need your phone? You hand it to him anyway, because you trust him. Mostly. With your phone, anyway. He presses some buttons.

“THERE, HUMAN! NOW YOU HAVE MY PHONE NUMBER! YOU CAN CALL ME WHENEVER YOU LIKE, AND NOT ONLY WILL WE NEVER BE FAR APART, YOUR ROCKS WILL NEVER BE FAR FROM MY ROCK!”

You take your phone back. Sure enough, the name “PAPYRUS” shows up on your contact list, right on top of Toriel’s name. You manage not to be sad and smile instead.

“WELL, I GUESS YOU’D BETTER GO. I’VE HELD YOU UP FOR TOO LONG. YOU WANT TO HOME TO THE SURFACE, RIGHT? THAT’S PRETTY FAR, SO YOU SHOULD START OUT AS SOON AS POSSIBLE!”

You nod, even if you’re not sure why you want to go to the surface. You collect your rocks and wave as you turn towards the door.

“GOODBYE, HUMAN! GOOD LUCK ON YOUR JOURNEY! DON’T FORGET TO CALL ME!”

You wave once more and step out into the cold.

Immediately, your mood drops. Why are you leaving? You’ve just gotten used to this town. You’ve just gotten used to Papyrus. You could stay here. Papyrus would probably let you sleep on the couch, or you could stay at the Inn. You don’t have to go.

_*[But you_ do _!]_

…right. Of course you do.

The uncertainty of what’s to come fills you with discomfort.


	19. Chapter 18

Once more, you walk through thinning snow towards the damp place. What did the book call it? Swampland? Cavern? You know it’s named after some sort of environment or natural landmark. It’s an even less creative name than Icevi—Snowdin. That’s what it’s called. You wish you were back there, back with Papyrus and the Snowed Inn and the little river with smooth, smooth rocks and the quiet, tree-lined path leading back to the Ruins, back to Mom, back to butterscotch-cinnamon pie and bug catching and reading ‘til you fall asleep in her lap and waking up to the smell of baking, where you only knew about these places from books and you didn’t have to worry about royalty who want you dead or skeletons with glowing bedrooms asking about things you never did or, or, or—

 _*Chisk,_  the left voice mutters, and you blink away the dampness in your eyes to find a yellow reptilian monster about your height staring at you.

“Yo? Underground to, uh…you? You doin’ okay?”

You gulp a few times, but nod.  _Just thinking,_  you sign, before you notice, oh. They’re the monster from before. They don’t have arms. Why would they know sign language if they couldn’t use it? You open your mouth to try to force the words out, but they speak first.

“Well, looks like you’re thinking too much!” they say with a grin. Oh. They do know it. Come to think of it, so did all the other monsters you talked to. How…convenient. “You gotta watch where you’re going here in Waterfall. It’s not like Snowdin.”

It isn’t? What’s different? Is it…dangerous?

“Yeah, it’s all stony, and there’s ledges and water all over. If you’re not paying attention, you could get hurt!”

You note that they must have learned from experience, judging by the darkened places around their eyes. Or maybe that’s just how their face is. Do monsters even bruise?

“Anyways, I’m M.K. Are you sneaking out to see her too?”

M.K. You wonder what the letters stand for, or if that’s just their full name. Would it be spelled “Emkay” then? Monsters do have funny names, but you supposed yours isn’t very common either. Still, you’re sure it must be initials. Maybe they stand for Monster Kid. It would be fitting. You nearly laugh, but M.K. is staring at you again. You blink. What was the question?

“What, were you thinking again?” You nod, grinning sheepishly. “You gotta stop that, yo!” They tilt their head a bit. “Well, don’t stop thinking. That’d probably be bad.” They grin, steeling their expression into something courageous. “But you have to pay attention to what’s going on! A true warrior is always aware of their surroundings! And I’m going to be a true warrior, just like Undyne!” They’re bouncing on their feet, tail swinging behind them. You blink. “You’re going to be a warrior too, right?”

What? You shake your head. No, no no no. You’d rather not be a warrior. That’s too much fighting for your liking.

M.K. looks a bit disappointed for a moment, but they go right back to bouncing. “Aw, well. What are you going to be, then?”

You shrug. You haven’t thought that far.

“Nothing wrong with that!” they say brightly. “You’re still a kid, I can tell by your shirt. You have a while to figure that out. But I already know exactly what I’m doing!” They tilt their head at you again. “You’re still here to see her though, right? I mean, you don’t have to be a warrior to know how cool she is! And she’s the coolest! Just don’t tell my parents I’m here, haha.”

You don’t bother answering, since they buried the question and you think it would be a little awkward to just nod or shake your head after all that, and you don’t feel like talking. So you just smile, and actually, yeah, nod your head too. It doesn’t have to be an answer. It can just mean you’re listening.

“Awesome!” Oh. They took it as an answer anyway. …you think. “Anyway, I’m gonna go look for her. See you later!” And off they run, teetering a bit, but they manage to right themself without falling on their face.

You think on their words for a minute. Not the ones about not thinking too much. That would be ironic, and also counterproductive. No, you think about other words. You’re still a kid. You have time to figure things out. Maybe you could just…stop, for a bit. Stop and think. Figure out what you’re going to do.

Your eyes are drawn ahead of you, to your left. Sans sits at his sentry station. He catches your gaze and waves lazily.

…not here, then.

You go forward, past Sans—who says something about hanging out again sometime—and follow the path M.K. took. It leads past a box like the ones from Snowdin (which you ignore for now, since you think you have everything you need) and to a waterfall.

A waterfall with rocks flowing down it.

Oh no.

Okay, you reason. You can think about this logically. You don’t see M.K. anywhere around. Could they have really gotten past such a dangerous (senseless, pointlessly time-consuming, possibly  _deadly_ ) obstacle in such a short amount of time? No, you don’t think so. …unless they’re more used to the danger of the area than you’d think they should be. They’re still a kid, too.

Still, you’re sure there must be some sort of shortcut. You follow the wood boards (they’re blue, they don’t look painted, how can wood be  _blue_ —) with your eyes, tracing a path downwards, to another waterfall. A perfect place to hide a secret, less dangerous path for locals. No sense in making human traps if they trap monsters just as often. No point in making human traps at all, really, if humans as rare as they say, but you’re going to try not to judge anyone around here.

It’s surprisingly difficult.

Down the path you walk, careful not to trip on loose boards or slip on what water you’re sure must be there. You try to peek behind the waterfall for a safe, preferably non-slippery path inwards, but there’s not enough space between the water and the wall. You try the other side, but it’s just as bad. Nothing.

Still, there’s a pretty blue flower down here, so it’s not a total waste. It looks like the flower you saw by the orange fish monster, but you hadn’t been able to get a close look at it with all the people around. …monsters, you mean. You lean over to smell it, but as soon as you get near it, you jump. It speaks.

“ _Sitting behind rushing water… It makes me feel relaxed. I swore I saw something… Behind that rushing water…_ ”

Is that a clue? Why would there be a clue? (And why does everything talk down here?) You glare at the waterfall. You’re going to be very upset with it if it’s hiding something from you. You look at it again, from the front this time, and you think you see something? There’s something shining there, like the flower said, just beyond the rushing water.

 _*A camera,_  Left supplies, thinking a pointed eyeroll in your direction.

A camera? Like back before Snowdin, right outside the door to the Ruins? Why is there a camera? Who’s watching you?

 _[Don’t think too hard,]_  Right says.  _[Remember M.K.!]_

Right, right. You have to pay attention. With one last glance at the camera, you head back up the path to the terrifying murder-fall (it’s like a waterfall, except murder objects fall down too, and apparently they’re popular with monsters—but you’re not judging them, not at all). You’re going to have to get wet, aren’t you? You hate getting wet. You’re not sure how you know that, since that never happened as far as you remember, but you do. You really, really hope the water is shallow enough that it doesn’t get in your boots, but you really, really doubt it.

You could…jump the rocks, maybe? Is that the puzzle? Or maybe you’re supposed to climb the rocks around the falls and there’s a bridge up top. Or maybe—

_*Or maybe you should not kid yourself. Even if that was the puzzle’s intention, you are not nearly athletic enough to accomplish such a task._

Slightly hurt, you have to agree. No matter what you were meant to do, wading seems to be your only option. Still, you wiggle your toes at the water’s edge for several moments before finally stepping in.

It’s cold. It’s really, really cold and it’s in your boots and it’s hard to lift your feet up to move and—oh god, that’s a rock—you move upstream to avoid being hit. Actually, you move directly into the waterfall when you’re paying too close attention to the murderrocks and now you’re soaked.

Shaking, you take a moment to calm down. You look around to assess your situation. You’re in a cave ( _*What else is new_ , Left says, but you ignore them) behind the waterfall and there’s a tutu on the ground.

Why is there a tutu on the ground.

_[Pick up the tutu and it won’t be on the ground anymore.]_

A reasonable suggestion. You pick up the tutu, coughing at the cloud of dust, and consider putting it on. It’s certainly cute, and it almost matches one stripe on your shirt, and it’s not like you’re stealing it if someone left it here…

_*Yes, will you finally trade that bandaid for something more helpful?_

Bandaid? Oh, they mean the necklace. But why would the tutu be any more helpful? And why would you need to take off your necklace to wear it?

_[…that’s a good point, actually.]_

They start talking amongst themselves, but you ignore them and slip the tutu on. You do a little twirl, then another and another until you’re dizzy. You lean against the wall until everything stops spinning.

You’ve dried off a bit (and emptied the water out of your oversized boots), but you’re just going to get wet again. You sigh, steel yourself, and head back out through the waterfall.

It’s not quite as bad now that you’re used to it. You’d really rather not have to get used to it, but anything to make it a little less unpleasant. You make it to the other side having only bumped into a single rock, nearly skipping with pride. That is, until you feel your socks pull from your boots and make that awful  _squelch_  and you have to sit down and get the water out again. And take off your socks. Those go in your inventory.

As bad as it feels to wear shoes without socks, wearing them with wet socks would be worse and you don’t have the time to wait for them to dry. You have to get…somewhere, and somewhere is where you’re going.

Until you get to the tall grass, that is.

You’re halfway through the grass when you hear Papyrus. Grinning, you almost wave at him, but you see her. Undyne. You know, the monster who’s planning on killing you and stealing your soul. And Papyrus is talking to her. Papyrus, your new friend. Or…you thought he was a friend. You knew he wanted to be in the royal guard, that he wanted to capture a human, but…but…

“…I UNDERSTAND. I’LL HELP YOU IN ANY WAY I CAN.”

But you didn’t think he’d betray you.

Hurt, holding back tears, you suddenly don’t want to go anymore. You want to stay right where you are, hidden in the grass and hugging yourself. More than that, you want to go back to Snowdin, but Papyrus is there. He’s working for Undyne now. You won’t be safe. You want to go back to Mom, but the door is locked and you’d have to go through Snowdin. Sans might help you, though. He had that shortcut to Grillby’s, maybe he has one to the Ruins?

No. He’d pick his brother over you any day. You have nowhere to go but forward, so forward you’ll go. The grass rustles as you walk and—what’s that? You look up at the sound and oh god, oh god, it’s Undyne, she never left, you thought she left!

She moves towards the ledge and pulls out a spear from…somewhere…and oh god, you’re going to die here—

But she puts the spear away.

And she leaves.

And you’re stuck there in the tall, tall grass and you’re cold and wet and terrified and you sob.

You sob so loud you don’t even hear the grass rustling when someone approaches you. You only hear them talk.

“Yo…did you see the way she was staring at you…? That was AWESOME! I’m SOOOO jealous! What did—” M.K. bends their head around to look at your face. “Yo, are you crying? What’s wrong?”

You wipe at your face with your sleeves. You don’t even have the energy to sign a response. You just turn your head upwards to look at the ledge Undyne had been standing on.

“Are you…scared? Did you think she was really going to hurt you?” Miserably, you nod. “Yo, you must not be from around here! Undyne wouldn’t hurt you! She just hurts bad guys, like humans!”

That certainly didn’t make you feel any better, but you force out a little smile for their sake.

“Yeah, that’s it! C'mon! Let’s go watch her beat up some bad guys!”

Off they run (and fall on their face, but they get back up alright) and finally you move. Out of the grass, you turn around to look up at the shadowed ledge. A feeling of dread hangs over you.

You are filled with discomfort.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, sorry this took so long! Things got kinda crazy irl and I kinda forgot about this, but someone sent an ask to the blog and I remembered just how much I love writing this. I hope I never take this long for a chapter again, but I can't make any guarantees. I'll try to keep an almost-schedule though!


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